


Back to You

by DraconisWing24441



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Missing in Action, Post Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconisWing24441/pseuds/DraconisWing24441
Summary: When Atlantis finally got the go-ahead to return to Pegasus, Rodney didn’t go with them.  He stayed on Earth, with Jennifer.  As the months pass, though, Rodney finds he misses more about his time in Atlantis than he realized.  He also realizes—with a little help from one Jeannie Miller—that perhaps his unrequited crush on his best friend may not be as unrequited as he’d originally thought.  So, newly single, Rodney sets plans in motion to move back to Atlantis but his return is not what he thought it would be.John Sheppard has gone missing and no one knows where he is.  In order to find out if John returns his feelings, Rodney first has to find him.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 58
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter One

_Present Day_

Rodney’s return to Atlantis was perfectly in character. He walked into the Gate Room with a bag over his shoulder containing his laptop and a few essentials and loudly demanded to speak to the man in charge: “Alright, someone tell me what the hell happened!”

“Dr. McKay?” Mr. Woolsey leaned over the balcony by his office, looking very confused to see him in Atlantis.

Ignoring him, Rodney moved to the side, out of the way of the rest of the people coming through the ‘gate. He had other things on his mind than Woolsey’s peace of mind. “Major!” he shouted over the bustle. “I need to talk to you!”

Lorne didn’t even break off his conversation with one of his underlings, just raised a hand in acknowledgment of Rodney’s words.

Rodney huffed a breath and crossed his arms, impatient. A _clunking_ sound drew his attention and he turned to snap at the soldiers carrying his belongings into the city. “Hey, be careful with those! I asked for help carrying, not breaking! The contents are worth more than you’ll ever make in your lifetime!”

They grumbled under their breaths and rolled their eyes but they were markedly more careful as they eased the boxes onto the floor. Rodney turned back to find that Woolsey had come down from his office and was making his way to where Rodney stood.

“Dr. McKay, I had no idea you were coming. Is everything okay?” Woolsey asked.

Rodney continued to ignore him and his stupid questions. Of course everything was _not_ okay.

Lorne finished up his conversation and joined them. 

Rodney snapped, “Alright, I’m here now and I want to know what happened, the unedited version.”

Lorne raised an eyebrow then flicked his gaze to where the soldiers Rodney had enlisted for grunt work were leaning on the boxes now. “You staying long, doc?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. But that’s irrelevant. Right now—”

Woolsey interjected, “Dr. McKay, if you’re planning on staying, you should know that your quarters were reassigned when you decided to stay on Earth.”

Lorne turned and called out over the noise of getting the new arrivals oriented, “Hey, Stackhouse, take Dr. McKay’s things to the Colonel’s quarters!” Across the Gate Room, Stackhouse saluted and approached the soldiers. Lorne turned back to Rodney and asked, “You wanna say hi to Ronon and Teyla first?”

“ _No_.” Rodney did, actually, want to see his friends but he had more important things. He shook his head. “I’ll see them later. Right now I need to know exactly how you idiots managed to let someone kidnap Sheppard!”

* * *

_Seven months ago_

Rodney stood out in the yard, eyes on the starlit sky, and wondered if he’d see it. If he’d know the moment that Atlantis broke through the Earth’s atmosphere on its way back to Pegasus. Most likely not, especially if they were using the cloak.

He wondered if John was, even now, in the chair, connecting his mind to the Ancient city in that amazing way only he could. If everything was going well, no complications with liftoff or anything. He hoped Radek was keeping a close eye on John as well as the systems. It was weird, not being there to keep track of things, to make sure that John wasn’t overdoing it.

A hand skimmed along his lower back then wrapped around his hand. He gave Jennifer a smile tinged with sadness.

“They’ll be okay, Rodney.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I just hope Teyla and Ronon can keep Sheppard from being reckless, to make him see the consequences of going in guns blazing.”

“It’s going to be hard, at first, I know,” she said gently and looked up at the stars. “But this is a new chapter in all of our lives. Ours is just here while theirs is out there. Our first step together.” Jennifer kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand, and headed back inside, leaving Rodney staring up at the sky.

Leaving Atlantis had been a tough decision but he loved Jennifer and she wanted to take a position on Earth. It had been a no-brainer to stay with her. He had his pick of jobs, could still work for the SGC. Rodney could have an actual relationship with his sister now, too; one that didn’t rely on email and the lack of near-death experiences.

It was hard, though, saying goodbye to people who had been his family and closest friends for five years.

Rodney stayed outside until the moon was setting and then he went back in, to join Jennifer in their new bedroom. Tomorrow, they moved on. Jennifer was due to start her new position as head of the emergency department at a big hospital, which was a huge opportunity for her, young as she was. Rodney had been offered a professorship at a nearby university. A job molding the minds of today’s youth, that didn’t require him to fear for his life every three days. He was quite looking forward to that part.

* * *

_Present Day_

Rodney sat in the chair across from Lorne’s desk and fought the urge to scream and yell as Lorne’s words rang in the silence. It was a toss-up between that . . . and breaking down in tears. When a story started with the words “it was a routine mission,” things were bound to go bad. After five years in the Pegasus Galaxy, all of them had learned the hard way that to tempt fate like that would turn an easy mission bad in an instant.

And this was as bad as it got.

Lorne had brought Rodney to his office, just the two of them, and had given him the tale in that calm, reassuring voice he had that made him well suited as Sheppard’s second. He balanced John’s impetuousness with caution. Usually.

AR-1 had gone out on a reconnaissance mission based on intel they’d received from an Athosian trading off world. They had walked into a giant SNAFU.

A crater had been in place of the village near the ‘gate, smoke still rising from the edges indicating that whatever had happened, it had recently happened. There was no one left alive. No one left, period. They couldn’t find any bodies but whether they had been taken or escaped or burned so badly they were unrecognizable, the team couldn’t decide. Sheppard ordered an investigation of the area, hoping for survivors, but as they started to cautiously inspect the former village, they were attacked.

Cut off from the Stargate, Sheppard decided to split them up. He and Ronon would draw the enemy’s fire so that Teyla and Zelenka could make a break for the ‘gate and call for back-up. That surprised Rodney momentarily, hearing that Zelenka had gone off world, though it shouldn’t have. When John couldn’t go off world, Lorne took his place as John’s second. When Rodney couldn’t, Radek went so it stood to reason that with Rodney no longer on John’s gate team, they’d need a scientist. Radek was now Chief Science Officer so of course John would want him on the team.

He ignored the flare of hurt that came with the realization that he’d been replaced on the flagship team. On _his_ team.

So they split up, John and Ronon staying behind to lay down cover fire as the other two sprinted off. But, as things do, that’s where things got hazy, apparently. John and Ronon made a dash for the ‘gate at some point after splitting the team up only to be ambushed en route. Ronon was knocked unconscious and by the time he came around, Lorne’s team arriving for rescue, John was gone.

And not—not dead. Or somewhere nearby, unconscious.

Gone.

Missing.

Along with any evidence he or the enemy had been there.

* * *

_Five months ago_

_It was interesting to note_ , Rodney mused as he trekked across campus, his shoulder bag bouncing against his hip, coat clutched tight to his throat in protection from the fierce wind, _how quickly he had gotten used to regular exercise while in Atlantis._ And now that he no longer went off world on a regular basis, how quickly he’d fallen into being stationary again. Walking across campus had become pretty much the only exercise he got nowadays. 

After the first time he got winded climbing the stairs in the sciences building, Rodney knew he had to do something. He started going to the gym. He even found a place to keep up his firearms proficiency, although he didn’t mention that particular fact to Jennifer. She wanted to pretend that Atlantis had never happened while he wanted to . . . . he didn’t know, exactly. He didn’t want to forget it, never that. But Rodney also knew that he had to find a way to move on from being on an off world team. 

It was like those two months back when the Ancients had kicked them out of Atlantis and he’d been stuck in Area 51 while John was at the SGC going through the ‘gate without him. Only now, Rodney couldn’t pick up the phone and call him whenever he wanted. He had to email and wait for his friend’s reply. It was frustrating, to say the least.

There were times, going on three months later, that Rodney still reached for a sidearm when he was startled. Still had moments where he'd turn to say something or share a look only to remember that that person wasn't there. They were in another galaxy. He missed the city and his friends but he was determined to give Jennifer his best efforts. He didn't realize it shouldn't be that way, not yet.

* * *

_Present Day_

“Okay, so what have you done to try and find him? Have you checked the DHD for recent addresses? Reached out to our allies? Checked that one of our regular enemies doesn’t have him somewhere? Tell me you haven’t been sitting on your collective asses for the last couple of weeks!” Rodney didn’t bother to restrain his temper. They were alone and he was perfectly entitled to freak out.

“We have,” Lorne replied calmly. “They didn’t use the ‘gate, but Dr. Zelenka pulled the addresses anyway. We sent teams to each planet but no luck. Mr. Woolsey contacted the Genii and the Travelers but they haven’t heard anything about Colonel Sheppard, although they’ve agreed to keep an ear out for any word of him.” Lorne paused and frowned just the slightest bit. He rested his elbows on the desk and said, “Wait. You said the last two weeks?”

“Yes, that’s what I was told. How could you have no information? We had more than that when Kolya kidnapped him!”

Lorne shook his head. “That’s not right.”

“You’re damn right it’s not right!”

“No, what I mean is your timeline. It’s not right.”

Rodney blinked at him. “What, have I counted the days wrong? Has Sheppard been missing for less than two weeks?”

“No, quite the opposite, in fact.” Lorne’s frown shifted into the expression of a person who wished he didn’t have to give bad news on top of more bad news. Rodney’s stomach sank with that look. “Dr. McKay,” Lorne said slowly, “Colonel Sheppard has been missing for nearly a month.”


	2. Chapter Two

_Three months ago_

The fighting started sooner than he’d expected.

To be honest, Rodney really should have seen it coming. He’d been lying to Jennifer about the firearms training and then, of course, she found out that he’d also been doing some consulting work for the SGC, specifically on a project with Sam Carter. That didn’t fit into Jennifer’s whole forget-Atlantis-ever-happened worldview.

At first it was just little arguments but it soon blossomed into full blown fights where he went back to the labs and she went to bed alone.

Jennifer claimed Rodney wasn’t giving her as much as he could. She insisted that he was still hanging onto things and not accepting that this was their life now.

He tried to change, he did. But the science called to him and Rodney never could ignore the lure of a scientific puzzle.

Jennifer made him go to couples counseling and for a while, it seemed to work.

* * *

_Present Day_

Rodney sat on John’s bed and looked around. With the exception of Rodney’s totes, it was like John had just . . . stepped out and would be back soon. Nothing had been moved or packed away. That was a good sign. They hadn’t given up on finding John, yet. Good.

He put his head in his hands. A month. John had been MIA for a _month_ and no one had told him! Teyla emailed him every week like clockwork and she had never _once_ mentioned this! He wasn’t sure if he should feel angry or hurt that she had kept that from him. She had to have known Rodney would want to come out here, to join in the search. She had to. Rodney didn’t stop being John’s friend just because they lived in different galaxies.

Lorne had emailed him the reports on their progress in the search but he hadn’t gathered the energy to look through them yet. Right now he just wanted to fall to pieces. Once he’d done that, he could get to work. He’d done it before and usually worked better after a minor breakdown.

The doorbell rang and for one heart-stopping moment, Rodney thought it was John on the other side. That John would saunter through that door and give Rodney that laconic smirk of his, make a joke about what took him so long to come back and things would be perfectly fine. Maybe even better than fine, if his sister were to be believed.

It rang again, followed by a swift knock. Rodney drew in a long, slow breath then got up and swiped the door open. Teyla and Ronon stood in the hall. Rodney gave them a small smile and stepped back to let them in. “Hey, guys.”

Ronon stepped through first and gave Rodney a hug so tight that Rodney rubbed his chest after Ronon let him go. Rodney gasped, “Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Ronon chuckled, slapped him on the back, and sat on the bed. “Good to have you back, McKay. This stuff all yours?”

“Yes,” Rodney retorted.

Teyla pulled Rodney’s forehead to hers in the Athosian greeting. “It is good to see you, Rodney, though I wish your visit had come under better circumstances.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly. They stood there for a minute then Rodney pulled back and inquired, “How are you? How’s the kid?”

Teyla smiled, her face lighting up at the mention of her son as he’d known it would. “Torren is growing so fast, I can hardly keep up with him. I am most grateful to Kanaan for being willing to watch him while I am away. I hope while you are here you will make time to see him.”

“I’d love to,” Rodney replied, “but I’m going to be so busy, I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to play with him.” They all knew Rodney would spend as much time as possible looking for John.

Teyla nodded. “I understand you wish to put all of your energies into searching but . . . I do not know how to say this.”

“Say what?”

Ronon said bluntly, “What can you do that Zelenka hasn’t already thought of and done?”

Teyla frowned at him but Rodney let that sink in. He hadn’t gone over the reports yet, hadn’t touched base with Radek, but Ronon had a good point. Other than another set of eyes, what could he do that hadn’t already been done?

But he had to try, he had to make sure that they’d exhausted every avenue in the search, and he _had_ to be there if . . .

_When_ they found him.

Rodney cleared his throat and said, “I’m not sure but I have to try. But before I go and lock myself in a lab, tell me: what’s the latest gossip?” An hour or two catching up with friends wouldn’t impact his work; he’d gone without sleep for several days and he planned on working through the night.

It was the least he could do.

* * *

_Two months ago_

Rodney missed Atlantis.

He missed Teyla. He missed babysitting Torren. He missed Ronon and his attempts to teach Rodney how to defend himself. He missed Lorne, and Zelenka, and Miko, and his lab. Hell, he even missed Woolsey and saving the day at the last second.

But most of all, Rodney missed John.

He missed movie night where they spent most of the time tearing apart the physics of it. He missed computer golf, and the jokes. He missed the way John took care of him, both on and off Atlantis. He missed racing cars in the corridors and beer on the pier, chess nights, and having someone who was on his side and willing to blow off work to just . . . hang out.

Rodney tried to bring up the possibility of visiting Atlantis to Jennifer but she shut him down, saying she couldn’t possibly get enough time off for a trip out there, and why would they want to anyway, when their lives were here? It didn’t make sense, to her, to step back into what was undoubtedly a war zone. They were still attending couples counseling and it was sort of working, although they still fought.

Then there was the flip side. As much as he missed them, not once did they mention missing him. John’s emails were light and bare of any sort of detail that would indicate John’s life had changed without Rodney there. Teyla’s were all about Torren and Ronon just—didn’t. He didn’t really expect John to say anything. The man who avoided any mention of having emotions or a history was never going to come right out and _say_ that he missed Rodney but he’d hoped Teyla would have said something. She could always get John to admit things he’d rather keep hidden.

So maybe they didn’t miss him. Maybe he was just being silly.

Maybe he needed a new perspective.

* * *

_Present Day_

Rubbing his bleary eyes, Rodney reached for his coffee mug only to find it missing. Blinking, he turned away from the soft blue glow of the computer screen to find it.

“Rodney, how long have you been here?” Radek asked, frowning at him. The computer’s glow reflected on his glasses.

Rodney stared up at him. “Um . . . what time is it? Also, have you seen my coffee?”

“Is nearly four in the morning, Atlantis time. Have you been here all night?”

“Um, yes?” He rubbed his eyes again. Hours and hours of combing data and the Ancients’ database for clues had so far turned up nothing. He wasn’t giving up, though. He just needed a bit more time; a breakthrough was imminent, he knew it. “I need coffee.”

“No,” Radek said, grabbing his arm as he got to his feet. “You need to go to bed.”

Rodney shook his head and pulled his arm free, heading for the coffee pot in the corner. “No, what I need is coffee and then I need to find something that will tell me where to find Sheppard.”

“And you will. But not now.” Radek took hold of his arm again, tugging him towards the door. “Come, Rodney, you are no good to Colonel Sheppard if you miss something because you were tired.”

“It’s been three days, Radek, and I’ve got nothing. I have to find something.” His voice had gotten a little high-pitched. Three days since he’d come home and he had yet to figure out where John had been taken. 

“And you will,” Radek repeated firmly. “After a few hours’ sleep.”

The room blurred and Rodney reluctantly admitted he could probably use some time away from the computer screens. He yawned and let himself be led out into the hall. “Yeah, alright, I suppose you make a good point. I can’t sleep too long, though; I have to find him.”

“And you will.” Radek walked him through Atlantis, the corridors empty but for the occasional security patrol. It was something John would have done, had things been like before. John would have come down to his lab before this, though, would have made Rodney leave his lab and get some sleep in an actual bed.

“We’ll find John, won’t we?” Rodney asked, his worry slipping out due to his exhaustion.

“Ano.” Radek grinned at him. “Now that you are here, we will leave no stone unturned.”

“Hey, Radek, why are you up so late?”

Radek shrugged. “Had idea. Will see if it pans out.”

“What was it? Maybe I could help.”

“No,” Radek said gently but firmly, “you will go to bed. One more day will not matter.”

Rodney wanted to argue that it most certainly would but a yawn prevented him from speaking. Radek opened a door and oh hey, when had they reached John’s quarters? God, had he not even noticed entering a transporter or walking through the living quarters? Maybe a few hours of sleep was a good idea. But only a few. He couldn’t allow more than that.

“Yes, yes,” Radek said, a bit impatient, “we all know Rodney McKay does not need sleep like normal human being.”

Had he said that out loud?

“Ano.” Radek ordered, “Sleep, Rodney. I will see you after lunch.”

“Breakfast,” Rodney mumbled, and face planted into the bed. John’s mattress wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his old one had been. Maybe he should see if it was still there and have it quietly relocated. Lorne could do that for him, right?

He dragged himself up to sink his face into the pillow and was fast asleep moments later.


	3. Chapter Three

_Present Day_

“Sir, I’ve got a Wraith dart incoming!” Chuck called urgently.

Woolsey hurried out of his office, demanding to know, “Has it entered the atmosphere yet? Alert Major Lorne!”

“Yes. Sir, it’s coming right at us.” Chuck divided his attention between his laptop and the citywide sensors. Rodney came up the back stairs, puffing from his frantic dash from his lab to the Control Room.

“Just the one?” Woolsey asked, leaning over Chuck’s shoulder to see the sensors. He rested a hand on the console.

“Looks that way.” Chuck pushed his chair over and reached for the control crystal that would activate the shield.

Rodney knocked his hand out of the way. “You don’t need to do that.”

Woolsey and Chuck looked at him in shock. “Dr. McKay, what are you doing? There’s a Wraith dart heading for Atlantis! We need to raise the shield.”

Rodney shook his head. “No, you don’t. Look, there’s a perfectly good explanation for—”

A loud _beep_ cut him off and Chuck scooted back to his station. He sounded confused as he said, “Uh, sirs? The dart’s hailing us.”

“Answer it,” Rodney ordered.

Woolsey stared at him as Lorne jogged into the room. He took a look around and asked casually, “So, what’s going on?”

Rodney huffed. “Oh for Christ’s sake! I’ll do it myself!” And he shoved Chuck’s chair aside and opened a channel himself. Chuck went flying across the Control Room while Woolsey spluttered. “This is McKay. Land on the South Pier; we’ll hold our fire.”

“Understood,” came the rasping voice of the Wraith.

“Is that a Wraith?” Lorne asked. “Why are you telling it to land?”

Chuck remained where he’d landed, watching the conversation with wide eyes. Woolsey glared at Rodney and demanded, “Dr. McKay, I want an explanation of your actions, immediately.”

Rodney turned to Lorne, snapped his fingers several times, and said, “Come on, chop chop.”

“What?”

“Call for a security team. I doubt you’re going to let me go out there alone and I am going out there.”

“Doctor McKay!” Woolsey said loudly as Lorne reached for his radio, still looking confused. “Explain yourself!”

Rodney glared right back, frustrated that they weren’t understanding. “Fine, since you simpletons need it spelled out: I’ve gone over everything you’ve done to try and locate Sheppard, every planet, every ally you’ve reached out to and I realized there was one you hadn’t contacted. So I did. And now he’s here and waiting so if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going. Major, are you coming with me or not?”

Lorne glanced at Woolsey, who was staring at Rodney apparently unable to come up with an adequate response, then told Rodney, “Keene’s team will meet us at the pier. After you, doc.”

Rodney led the way to the transporter, Lorne on his heels. He tapped the map for the South Pier then hurried down the corridor. A squad of six heavily armed Marines awaited them and, as they approached, one held out a P90 to Lorne. Rodney took a moment to catch Lorne’s eye and said, “Don’t shoot him until I’ve had a chance to speak with him. Please? He might have some useful information.”

Lorne studied him for a moment then said, “You heard him, boys. Hold your fire but remain on alert. Doc, after you.”

Rodney had honestly expected more resistance but then again, this was Major Lorne. He was far more easygoing than Sheppard. Sheppard would have argued with him the whole way down about whether or not it was a good idea to talk to the Wraith instead of shooting him on sight, even with their history. Or _because_ of their history. And he definitely would have been twitchy about letting Rodney go out there and chat with him. Rodney took a quick breath then swiped the door open and strode outside with as much confidence as he could muster.

Lorne kept pace with him on his right side, P90 up and trained on the Wraith who was just now climbing out of his dart. It was exactly what John would have done, if he was here. He’d go along with Rodney’s plan, cautious but trusting, his only goal to keep Rodney safe. The fact that Lorne was at his side instead of John was so jarring in that moment that Rodney’s chest constricted so much he couldn’t breathe for a couple steps. God, he missed John. How could Rodney have ever thought he could live on a planet without him?

As they approached, Todd the Wraith chuckled amusedly and raised his hands in mocking surrender. “Dr. McKay, is this any way to greet an old friend?”

“We are not friends,” Rodney snapped before he could help himself. He stopped with three feet of space between them, Lorne at his side and the security detail taking up flanking positions.

Todd glanced around and said, “I would say it is nice to be back, but I do not have many fond memories of being in Atlantis. And Dr. McKay, I was surprised to receive your invitation. I had heard that you remained on Earth.”

Rodney crossed his arms. “Cut the small talk, Todd. Where’s Sheppard?”

Lorne’s gun jerked just the slightest bit, enough to tell Rodney he was startled by Rodney’s opening question.

Todd gave him a curious look. “I assume you are talking about Colonel John Sheppard?”

“Who else would I be talking about? I assume you remember who he is?”

Todd chuckled. “How could I forget? But why do you ask? Have you misplaced him?”

Rodney’s anger skyrocketed but he resolutely shoved it back down. He firmly reminded himself that this was how the Wraith did things, with taunts and mind games. “ _No_ ,” Rodney said, “we have not _. . . misplaced him_ , as you say. So you’re telling me you have no idea what’s happened?”

“Perhaps,” he drawled.

“Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps . . . if I knew what you wished to know,” Todd replied, amusement back in his voice, “I could search my memory.”

“A month ago, Sheppard and his team went to a planet to meet with someone only to find the entire civilization gone. Destroyed. All of the humans gone. Sound familiar to you?” Rodney questioned.

Todd rubbed his chin, a disturbingly human-like action that made Rodney’s skin crawl. “I have heard of something along those lines. You think that was us?”

“Well the humans were gone,” Rodney said sarcastically, “and we all know how much you like your food fresh. So, yes, I thought of you.”

Todd shook his head. “It was not us. We would not destroy a feeding ground so thoroughly.”

“Alright, we’ll say I believe that. Any idea who it would have been, then?”

“Were your people taken in the attack on this planet? Is this why you asked me to come here?”

“Colonel Sheppard was taken and we’re trying to find him.” Lorne shot Rodney a sharp look but he ignored the warning in it. He knew Todd knew more than he was saying. “You know something. What?”

Todd’s gaze slid to Lorne then to the Marines before returning to Rodney. “You will allow me to leave this planet?”

Rodney waved a hand absently. “Yes, yes, free to leave and all that. What do you know?”

“There is another race who seeks to use humans for their own personal gains, other than my people,” Todd began slowly. “They have a similar need for humans as we do. But where our need is sustenance, theirs is to further their lives through means we do not have. Through technologies we do not have the ability to use or access.”

“Ancient technology?” Rodney asked.

Todd shook his head. “They are not the race that created the Wraith but are just as old. I believe, Doctor, that you have encountered them once before. You know what they are capable of.”

“What?” Rodney asked, confused. He started going back through the years in his head, cataloging all the different aliens he’d encountered. Mission after mission, scans of the Ancient database . . . Rodney eliminated most until his brain stuck on one and he felt the blood drain from his face. Oh. Oh no.

Todd nodded. “You know of whom I speak, I see.”

“I do.” Rodney turned to Lorne, fighting the panic rising in his chest. “Let him go. He’s served his purpose.”

Rodney headed back to the city, his feet moving faster and faster until he was flat out running through Atlantis’ corridors. If he was right . . . oh god, he hoped he wasn’t right . . . if John was being held prisoner by _them_ . . .

Rodney burst into his lab and snapped, “Zelenka, get over here!”

“Rodney? What is it? Have you had breakthrough?” Zelenka hurried over to Rodney’s desk.

“The Vanir have John. We have to figure out how to track them, find out what their next stop will be.” Rodney was already pulling up the location of the planet John had gone missing on, figuring out which planets nearby had also been hit. That would give him a couple points on which to make a road map of sorts.

“The Vanir?” Zelenka asked, moving to work on the other computer. “Why would they have taken Colonel Sheppard?”

“Don’t you remember?” Rodney asked. “When they kidnapped me and Daniel, we found out that they want to experiment on humans as a way to prolong their lives. They just don’t do it in the humane way that the normal Asgard do. God, I don’t even want to _think_ about what they could have been doing to John for a month. And if they realize he has the Ancient gene . . .”

“ _To není dobré_ ,” Radek muttered.

“Exactly,” Rodney said. “So we figure out what other planets they’ve hit—”

“And then we figure out where they’ll be next—”

“And then we rescue Sheppard,” Rodney finished.

“Good plan.”

“Of course it is; I came up with it. Now get to work. John’s been in their clutches too long already.”

* * *

_One month ago_

Rodney’s relationship with Jennifer was evaporating before his eyes but it didn’t bother him nearly as much as it obviously should. He just couldn’t figure out _why_ she was always mad or annoyed at him for something but what was even more confusing was the way Jennifer reacted whenever Rodney mentioned Atlantis, or his team, or John. Yes, she got very weird whenever he mentioned John. She didn’t used to, he didn’t think, or maybe he just never noticed before? They’d be talking—or arguing—and if Rodney mentioned John’s name, Jennifer either blew up or got really quiet, almost always sighed, muttered _‘of course,’_ then walked away.

Rodney had no idea why! And it was clear that Jennifer wasn’t going to explain herself—indeed, she seemed to think he should already know what she was talking about—so he went to the one person who could explain how women think . . . and was on Earth: his sister. Rodney took a weekend when he knew Jennifer would be working extra hours to cover for a doctor who needed time off, cancelled his Friday classes, and flew to Vancouver.

“I just,” Rodney sighed, sinking into the couch cushion, “this isn’t what I thought it would be like.”

“What you thought what would be like?” Jeannie asked curiously, settling on the couch with a glass of wine after Kaleb and Maddie had gone to bed. He’d just finished telling her about the past few months, glad to get it all off his chest, finally.

“You know, a relationship. An actual relationship. We hardly ever spend time together anymore and when we do . . . we fight all the time.” Rodney sighed again and accepted his glass with a weary smile of thanks.

Jeannie gave him a sympathetic smile and sipped. “That’s not what a relationship is like, Mer. I mean, it’s not all rainbows and roses, but it’s not all fighting, either. When you’re with the right person, you’ll know it.”

“What if you don’t know who the right person is?” he asked.

Jeannie replied knowingly, “Trust me, you do. Just think about it for a minute. Who in your life doesn’t mind when you get lost in your work? Who makes you laugh like no one else? Who is always there for you whenever something really good happens or when something really bad happens? Who makes you _want_ to be near them as much as possible?”

Rodney frowned, thinking. So clearly she meant someone he already knew. Not Sam. Obviously. That ship sailed long ago. Not Teyla, either. Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyway, seeing as she had Kanaan and Torren. Katie Brown was with someone else and also worked out of the SGC on Earth. Miko was out of the question. What other women did he know who answered all those questions?

“Think about it,” Jeannie said softly. “You already know who he is.”

_He?_ Rodney blinked as a name instantly popped into his head then just as quickly dismissed it. There was no way. There was simply no way his impossible crush was suddenly possible, let alone returned. He shook his head. “I give up. Who are you talking about?”

“Why, John, of course.”

He blinked several times as his sister confirmed his thoughts. “You—I—what?”

Jeannie sipped her wine then repeated, “You belong with John.”

Rodney was already shaking his head even as she spoke. “No. No, there’s no way. John’s—he’s straight! He’s my best friend!”

“You talk about him all the time,” Jeannie pointed out. “Maddie calls him Uncle John. You bring him on vacation with you, you brought him here for Christmas even when you were with Jennifer! I’ve never seen you as happy as you are around John. The two of you just click and that’s something special.” 

Rodney continued to shake his head, but it was slower than before, more . . . thoughtful. “That’s just . . . us. That’s how we are. We’re friends, there’s nothing more than that.”

“Even if you want more?”

“How did you know—?”

“Please, Meredith, I’ve seen the two of you together and it is totally obvious that you are head over heels for each other and neither one of you will acknowledge it. It’s sad but the truth. And now that you and Jennifer are on the outs, you might as well tell John how you feel.” Jeannie smiled at him, certain that she was right.

Rodney didn’t respond yet as he was still having trouble processing the fact that a) his crush on John wasn’t as locked down as he’d thought because his stomach was doing weird, uncomfortable swoopy things, and b) Jeannie thought—was certain, actually—that John felt the same way. “You’re saying John’s in love with me.”

“I am.”

“And you’re sure about this.”

“I am.”

“Well,” Rodney replied, “I hate to tell you this, Jeannie, but you’re wrong. There’s no way John’s in love with me.”

She tipped her head to the side and asked, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s been months and he’s never mentioned missing me or asked me to come back. Not once.”

“Did you honestly expect him to?” Jeannie shook her head sadly. “Meredith, I love you but you can be so dense sometimes.”

Rodney bristled. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know John. Just because he hasn’t said anything doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel that, doesn’t miss you terribly. He would do anything for you—and he has. I mean, he convinced that man to sacrifice his life so you wouldn’t have to! Who would even do that?”

Rodney looked away. He remembered that conversation, coming to the decision of what he’d have to do to save Jeannie, then steeling himself to have that talk with John. They’d briefly talked about it afterwards on Atlantis, John just brushing it aside as a professional thing. But now that he thought about it, John had gotten this weird look on his face . . . . and he’d gone behind Rodney’s back, locked him out of the lab with Todd while Wallace was fed on. 

And John spent a lot of time on missions making sure Rodney was safe. He checked the food for citrus, always carried extra power bars, made sure he was first into any abandoned buildings. John brought Rodney food when he was stuck in the lab or forgot to make it to mealtimes, he distracted Rodney from wanting to kill his subordinates. And, okay, so maybe John had feelings for him that went beyond friendship. And he just never saw it because . . . . because he’d decided John was unattainable and covered for it by calling him Kirk repeatedly.

“Okay,” Rodney said finally, “okay so maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t asked me to come visit or visited me.”

“If John thought you were happy with Jennifer,” Jeannie said gently, “would he want to interfere with that?”

That was a definite no. Rodney knew that, for sure. He rubbed his face, sighing. “Great. Just great. John’s in love with me but won’t say anything as long as he thinks this is what I want; meanwhile it just hurts him to see me with someone else. I’m in love with an emotionally stunted flyboy.”

“That’s pretty much it. John wants you to be happy above all else, even if it’s in direct contradiction to what he wants.”

“What, and you’re so sure about that? That John’s in love with me but won’t say anything so long as he thinks I’m happy?” Rodney eyed her accusingly. “Are you emailing him? Has he been talking to you but not me? Is that why you’re so certain of this?”

Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Okay, first of all: yes, I do email John and he emails back, but it’s not what you think. By this point, he’s practically family so I keep him up to date on what’s happening with me and Kaleb, with Madison . . . with you. You know, the things you won’t tell him.”

“Like my fights with Jennifer.”

“Well, if he asks, I’m not going to _lie_ to him,” Jeannie replied with a quick grin.

“Does he ask?” Rodney asked quickly.

“He does. Occasionally.”

Rodney felt heat rush through him at the thought that John did actually want to know how he was doing, even if it was through Jeannie.

“He never asks in a straightforward way, though; it’s more between the lines.” She rested a hand on his arm and said, “He wants to be with you, he’s just afraid.”

“Afraid? Sheppard?” Rodney scoffed. “Please, Sheppard’s never afraid.”

“He was afraid to lose you when you had that parasite in your brain,” she said softly.

Rodney grimaced and rubbed his forehead. He still had a faint scar there from the impromptu brain surgery. Yeah, okay, he remembered that night on the pier . . . John’s absolute refusal to say goodbye, to refuse to accept that Rodney wouldn’t remember him. “He was just worried about my well-being, like a good friend.”

“No, Mer, John was afraid of losing _you_. I’ve never seen him so visibly scared.”

Rodney’s throat went tight with emotion and he suddenly remembered another time he’d seen John and that absolute refusal. When Jeannie was stuck with those nanites and they needed someone for Todd to feed on so they could finish the cure. He’d offered himself, asked for John’s permission, and John immediately said no. Like he couldn’t even entertain the thought of Rodney giving up his life.

Huh.

“So,” Rodney began, “so why is he afraid now? I’m not dying, not losing my mind. What’s he got to be afraid of?”

“Mer, he’s afraid that you’d think you’re settling, afraid that he’s the second choice, afraid that you’ll say no and it’ll ruin your friendship, afraid of what might happen if the military found out . . .”

“All valid reasons,” Rodney pointed out then paused, frowning, before he added, “Except that second choice, the whole “settling” thing. That’s wrong because I didn’t even know he _was_ an option so how could I be settling when I didn’t know?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He waved a hand.

Jeannie pursed her lips but continued, “I know you’ve already come up with several reasons why it couldn’t work but I also know that the two of you are equally stubborn. One of you needs to just suck it up and say something! I can’t keep watching you two dance around your feelings anymore! I’m this close to doing it myself.” She held up a thumb and finger so close there was a millimeter between them.

Rodney flushed and looked away, his mind churning. Jeannie fell silent, letting him process. Rodney found himself going back over every interaction he’d ever had with John Sheppard—and there had been a lot—to examine them in this new light. So many moments had a new layer to them—the way John sought out his company all the time; how Rodney knew the differences in John’s smiles, his expressions, how there was a smile that he was now realizing was reserved for just him; how John’s hand would sometimes linger on his shoulder or lower back just a bit longer than necessary . . . small things like that that over the years added up to the fact that John was in love with him and Rodney was an idiot for not noticing it sooner.

And just like that, Rodney knew what he had to do. “I have to go back,” he said suddenly into the quiet living room. He could _finally_ acknowledge the giant crush he had on his best friend and have it returned. Eagerness to return to the place he still considered home filled him and he turned to Jeannie, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “I have to go back to Atlantis and I have to tell John I love him.”

Jeannie smiled back and agreed, “That’s exactly what you have to do.”

“Right. Right, that’s—that’s what I’ll do. I’ll end things with Jennifer and I’ll go back to Colorado, then find a way to get reassigned to Atlantis and then . . . and then,” he trailed off, biting his lip.

“What?”

“What if this doesn’t work? What if I tell him and it turns out he doesn’t love me back? It would completely destroy our friendship. Or worse, what if he doesn’t even want me in Atlantis? What if he’s happier not having me around?”

“Whoa, Meredith, take a breath and slow down. Where did this come from?”

“I’m a pragmatist. I’m supposed to look at the situation, find all the possible ways things could go wrong, and plan for the worst.”

“This is love. You can’t look at it that way. Besides, anyone who looks at you the way John looks at you is head over heels in love.” 

“How John looks at me? How does John look at me?” Rodney asked, distracted momentarily.

“Like you’re the air he needs to breathe.”

“He does?” How had he never noticed that before? Well, that explained a bit more about the obvious tension between John and Jennifer, if she saw John look at him like that. Rodney winced a little, realizing just how much Jennifer had had to deal with, dating him. And how much pain John had been hiding. God.

Jeannie shook her head, smiling. “Meredith, just trust me on this. Go back to Atlantis and tell him. Then email me and tell me how it goes. I’m far too invested in you two to be kept out of the loop now.”

Rodney nodded. Okay, he could do this. It couldn’t be worse than facing down a 10,000 year old Wraith like he had their first year out there, right? He could talk to John about emotions and feelings and . . .

Who was he kidding? This was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Hopefully he didn’t screw it up.

* * *

_Present Day_

It took three days after Todd’s visit for Rodney and Zelenka to gather enough information to plot the Vanir’s path to the planet where they’d taken Sheppard. It took another two days after that to get an accurate idea of where they’d be stopping next. Once they were reasonably certain of their findings, Rodney thanked Radek for his help and took it to Ronon and Teyla.

They were, of course, all in on anything that gave them a shot at finding John. Now, as good as Rodney was, he had no idea how to plan a rescue mission, let alone one in space on a spaceship. Normally, this would be where Sheppard came in but since he was the one needing rescue, the three of them went to Lorne and laid out everything.

Lorne listened, asked questions, and then called in Stackhouse and Teldy. The six of them remained closeted in Lorne’s office for hours, planning strategy. Once they’d come up with a final plan, it was time to present it to Woolsey.

Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney all went to his office and presented first Rodney’s findings then Lorne’s plan. Then they waited. Woolsey, the bastard, took his good old sweet time thinking it over, going over the plans and diagrams and data again and again.

After what felt like hours but was only minutes, Woolsey looked up and studied the group. Rodney narrowed his eyes, silently daring him to tell them no. They could get around him, easy, especially with Lorne’s gene, but it would be nice if they had Woolsey’s approval.

He folded his hands in front of him, leaned back in his chair, and simply said, “Bring him home.”

The relief Rodney felt was echoed in the smile on Teyla’s face, the pristine salute Lorne gave, the fierce grin on Ronon’s. _Hang in there just a little bit longer, John,_ Rodney thought as they headed for the armory to gear up. _We’re coming._


	4. Chapter Four

_Present Day_

It was a system of planets they hadn’t visited yet, according to the city database. Five planets orbiting a central star and three of them were inhabited by the Pegasus variant of humans. The one they went to was a lush green planet, a long savannah stretching out before them as Lorne flew the ‘jumper through the ‘gate. Stackhouse followed on his heels but stayed by the ‘gate until they found confirmation that the Vanir were or had been here. In the co-pilot chair, Rodney did several scans of the planet and found nothing that would indicate a vast ship in the immediate area. He did, however, find evidence of locals. Pointing east, Rodney informed Lorne, “There’s a village that way.”

Lorne nodded and banked the puddlejumper in that direction, cloaking them as he did so. “Let’s see if anybody’s home.”

The flight to the village was short but silent, all of them wondering what they’d find. Rodney was torn between wanting the people to be alive and safe . . . . but the other half of him wanted to find proof that the flight path he and Zelenka had plotted led here. He _needed_ it to be here because he didn’t know if John would survive much longer.

The thatched roofs of the village came into view a few minutes later, smoke rising gently into the air from a few central points. Lorne pulled up the HUD and it showed no signs of destruction, no one running in fear or any other indications of attack. 

Rodney’s heart sank. The Vanir hadn’t been here.

Lorne glanced at him sidelong, mouth pressing into a sympathetic line. He reached out and tapped a button. “Stackhouse, this is Major Lorne, come in.”

“This is Stackhouse. Go ahead, Major.”

“Looks like our targets haven’t been here. We’re gonna head back to you. Anything on your scans?”

“Nothing, sir. See you soon.”

Teyla interjected, “Major, we should talk with them.”

Lorne said, “One second, Sergeant,” and tapped a button. He twisted in his seat to look at her. “What are you thinking, Teyla?”

Rodney turned to look at her as well. She had risen from her seat and was now standing just behind Rodney, a hand braced on the back of his chair. Her gaze was on the villagers below. “They have not been victims of the Vanir nor is there any evidence that the Vanir are currently on this planet.”

“Right,” Lorne said slowly.

She pointed out, “Yet Rodney’s calculations say that this planet is in their path.” 

Rodney grimaced at the reminder that he had messed up somehow.

But Teyla only continued, “Does it not seem likely that the reason that the villagers live on is that the Vanir have not arrived yet? That this is the eventual path they will take only we have arrived here first?”

Rodney’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Lorne who was in a similar state of disbelief. How had that not occurred to him?

“We should warn the locals, then,” Lorne said. “And set someone here to keep an eye out to alert us when the Vanir _do_ arrive.”

He radioed Stackhouse with the update and went to land nearby. Rodney reached up to grip Teyla’s hand and said, “Hey, that was a good idea. That never would have crossed my mind.”

She smiled at him. “You have always seen the negative first, Rodney. It is one of your many gifts and has saved our lives many times in the past. But it is also why we work as a team: you, me, Ronon and Colonel Sheppard. We balance each other. We will warn these people that their lives may be in danger and soon enough we will find and rescue Colonel Sheppard. I believe this.”

Rodney’s throat tightened. “I missed you,” he replied quietly.

Teyla’s smile softened. “And I you, Rodney. Come; it has been many months since you were on a different planet. It will do you good to leave the puddlejumper.”

He disagreed but reluctantly let her lead him from the ‘jumper. He made sure that Lorne did the whole meet-the-natives meet-and-greet, though. They were welcomed with open arms and an invitation to share a meal. Rodney sat between Ronon and Teyla and poked halfheartedly at the food offered, thinking of how John would test the food first for citrus. 

Ronon silently shoved a bowl of something that looked like guacamole dip in front of him followed by a plate of maybe-pita bread. Rodney raised an eyebrow. “It’s good. Eat.”

“I don’t—”

“I tried it already,” Ronon interrupted. “I know what citrus tastes like. Sheppard taught me what to look out for.”

“Oh.” Rodney felt a faint flush on his cheeks but reached for a piece of bread to dip. “Thanks.”

They stayed at the table, Ronon and Teyla tag teaming the citrus test, until Lorne hurried over. “What is it, Major?” Teyla asked.

“Just got a call from Stackhouse. Time to go.”

Oh good. Meet the locals was done for the day. Fastest it had ever been, thank god. With relief, Rodney rose and reached for his pack. They left with invitations to return and reminders to keep an eye out for the Vanir then piled into the puddlejumper. A quick flight later saw them arriving back in Atlantis. 

Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, Major Lorne, and Sergeant Stackhouse headed down to the Control Room while the rest of the team went to unload their gear. Woolsey gestured for them to come into his office. Rodney narrowed his eyes. Something felt off.

When Woolsey closed the door behind them, it cinched it. Something had happened, and it wasn’t good news. Shit, had the SGC got wind of things and ordered them to stand down? Like hell that was happening! Rodney knew Atlantis better than anyone in the city and he knew Ronon and Teyla—even Lorne—would do whatever it took to rescue John, no matter what the SGC or Woolsey said.

If it came to that, of course.

Woolsey walked around his desk, looked them in the eyes one by one, then said, “We received a call from one of our allies while you were off world.”

They exchanged looks then Lorne inquired, “What sort of call?”

“And which allies?” Rodney added.

Woolsey answered, “A request for help, from M7G-677.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Let me guess: the ZPM needs recalibrating or something? Send Zelenka.”

“No, Dr. McKay, that’s not why they called.” Woolsey pursed his lips. “It looks like Keras and his people were the latest victims on the Vanir’s path.”

Rodney was fairly certain every one of them—minus Ronon, perhaps—gasped aloud at the news. 

“Are they alright?” Teyla demanded to know.

“They were lucky enough to be away from the village when the Vanir came and most of them survived the attack. But their homes were destroyed and several of the youngest were injured in the attack.” Woolsey shook his head sadly. “It looks like the Vanir only take the older adults prisoner and they didn’t realize the planet is populated mainly by children and young adults. As such, they attempted to leave no witnesses.”

Horror filled Rodney and he lost track of the rest of the conversation. He’d been wrong in his calculations and not only had he picked the wrong planet, he was so wrong that another planet had been attacked. A planet they should have been at, should have been _protecting_. Guilt filled a hole in his chest and he needed to get out, to be alone.

Rodney left Woolsey’s office, oblivious to the worried looks his friends sent after him. He needed to think, to process the horrible news he’d just been given.

He’d been wrong and Keras’ people had paid the price. And John was still missing.

* * *

_Just under a month ago_

It was the weekend after his surprise visit to Jeannie and they were both home for the evening. A rare occurrence. Jennifer was on the far end of the couch from him, legs curled under her, head resting on her hand as she watched a chick flick on the television. Rodney sat on the other end, his laptop open but he wasn’t really focused on the readouts on the screen. No, his attention was on the conversation he knew they needed to have and this was probably the best time for it. When they were both home and things were . . . okay. 

The two feet of space between them felt like two miles. Rodney glanced sidelong at her, bit his lip, returned his attention to his computer. Fuck, he had to do this. He couldn’t just disappear on her with a note like a coward. Five years in Pegasus and he knew he wasn’t that, not anymore. So Rodney bit the bullet.

Taking a breath, he cleared his throat and hesitantly started, “Um, Jennifer?”

“Hmm?” she responded absently, engrossed in the movie.

“Can—can we talk?”

Jennifer glanced briefly in his direction before returning to the movie. “Does it have to be now? I’ve worked 18 of the last 24 hours; I’m tired.”

Oh. Right. For a second, he was tempted to take the excuse and drop it. Then he heard his sister in his head, admonishing him for backing out. He closed his eyes and replied, “Yes. Yes, I—I think it has to be now.”

With a sigh, Jennifer said, “Okay.” She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume until the voices were just barely audible. Then she shifted to face him. “What do you want to talk about?”

Oh he really should have thought this through before now.

When he didn’t immediately start talking, Jennifer sighed again. “Rodney—”

“I’m going back,” he blurted out.

She blinked. “Back—back where? To your lab? Weren’t you just there a few hours ago?”

“No. I—well, I mean, yes. I was just there. But that’s—that’s not what I mean.” Rodney made a face. He was so bad at talking about things like this. God, it was so much easier with Sheppard. He understood without Rodney having to actually spell things out. He took another breath, closed his laptop, and said again, “I’m going back. To Atlantis.”

Jennifer frowned slightly. “You mean the SGC asked for your help with another project? Is that what you mean by _going back_?”

“Wait, what? No.” Rodney shook his head. “No, I already went back to them. When Sam asked for help all those months ago, I just . . . never left? I’ve been working remotely for months. No, what I mean is, I’m going back to Atlantis. For—reasons. Lots of reasons.”

Jennifer moved so that she was facing him fully, the TV movie now completely forgotten as she stared at him in surprise. “Are you telling me that for all that I’ve thought we had made a clean break, you’ve actually been employed by the SGC for _months_ and you never said a word?”

Her voice rose and Rodney winced slightly, sensing a fight coming when all he’d wanted was to talk and try to end things amicably. “Ah,” he said weakly, “yes?”

She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Great. That’s just great. What else have you been hiding from me?”

“I wasn’t hiding—okay, well, yes, I was,” Rodney quickly amended at the flash of anger in her eyes. “But only because I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it!”

“You’re damn right I’m not happy about it! What did we go to couples counseling _for_ , Rodney, if you were just going to lie to me?”

“Because I miss it!” The words slipped out before he could censor them, shocking both of them. The truth rang in the silence and Rodney lowered his voice as he tried to explain, “Jennifer, I miss Atlantis. So much. I never realized how much I would miss it when I agreed to stay on Earth with you but I do. It’s like—like there’s a part of me missing and I know that it’s in Pegasus.”

“You miss Atlantis?” she asked quietly. “Or you miss John?”

Rodney swallowed, his hands clenching into fists on his legs. “Both,” he admitted.

Jennifer studied him then sighed heavily. “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

He winced. “Yes. I’m sorry but I—I think that I have to. And I think that it’s what’s best for both of us, actually. I was never truly happy, being here, and you are. Right?”

“I really should have seen this coming,” Jennifer said. “But I thought that it was just lingering grief or a—a delayed reaction to being on Earth again. I thought that if I acted like everything was normal—that _we_ were normal—then you would find happiness here, with me. Like you had before, but now I see that that was just wishful thinking on my part, that you had chosen me because you truly loved me. Rodney.” Jennifer smiled at him and reached out to take his hands. “You love me, but you’re not _in love_ with me. I’ve always known that on some level. You have, too. And I know that you’re right, that this was coming.”

“So . . . you’re not upset?” Rodney felt off kilter. Could it be this easy? Was it supposed to be this easy?

A sad smile crossed her face. “I’m a little hurt but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. When are you planning on leaving?”

Blinking rapidly, still startled by the way she just—accepted it—Rodney replied, “Um, well, I—I emailed Sam about getting reassigned to Atlantis but I haven’t heard anything back yet. I was planning to just work in the SGC until I got a reply or otherwise found a way to get to Atlantis.”

“So then, soon, is what you’re saying.” Jennifer smiled again. “And am I right in guessing that one of the first things you’re going to do is tell John that we’re over and you’re in love with him?”

He rubbed the back of his neck—something he appeared to have picked up from Sheppard—and sighed. “Jeannie said he’s in love with me and I’ve been completely oblivious so, yeah. I want to talk to him about it and see what he does, if he’ll admit to it or not. And hopefully—once I get him to confess—John and I can—can start something. Is this weird? For you? Talking about my feelings for someone else right after we’ve just broken up? Because this is weird for me. The whole thing. I’ve never broken up with someone, I’ve always been the one people break up with.”

Jennifer laughed and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Oh, Rodney. It’s very weird, but we’re both adults. I’m glad you can talk about this with me and your sister.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I hope you get what you want, Rodney. I hope you and John will be happy together.”

Rodney smiled at her. “Thank you, Jennifer. For everything.” He meant it. She’d done so much for him, meant so much to him, and the way her eyes softened told him that she understood.

She settled back in her half of the couch and reached for the remote again. “Let me know when you’re planning to leave and we’ll go out for one last dinner together. A goodbye between friends.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” With a quick smile, Jennifer upped the volume to normal levels.

Rodney opened his laptop again after a moment and was able to focus on the readouts. He smiled softly to himself. Maybe the universe was finally giving him a break because this was all going surprisingly well. Now he just needed things with John to go as well as breaking up with Jennifer had. 

He couldn’t wait to walk through the Stargate again, after all this time. Rodney decided to send Sam another email, checking that she’d gotten his first one and seeing what the status of his request was. Because he wasn’t altogether certain he could convince Harriman to open the ‘gate for just him nor was he certain he could convince Caldwell to let him stow away on the _Daedalus_. Not that he wanted to wait three weeks to get to Atlantis but it was an option.

Things were finally going in the right direction.

* * *

_Present Day_

He’d been wrong.

How could he have been wrong? And not just regular wrong but spectacularly, dramatically, epically _wrong_. And while they were fucking picnicking with the natives, the Vanir had destroyed another civilization and they were no closer to finding John than before!

Rodney threw the first thing his hand laid on—a pen—across the room; watched it hit one of the dry erase boards and fall to the floor. He wished it was bigger, louder; something he wouldn’t regret watching shatter. He needed to hear something shatter that wasn’t his heart. He’d sequestered himself in a smaller lab—not the main one. He didn’t think he could stand the accusatory looks or the stares or even Zelenka’s knowing yet sympathetic gaze. The feeling in his gut felt all too much like that time at the Ancient outpost. His utter confidence that he was right followed by one of the most appalling failures in his life along with the realization that Sheppard had lost faith in him. That—that had hurt the most. Losing the first real friend he’d ever had after Carson had been such a blow back then that he’d worked so hard to earn back John’s trust.

And now he couldn’t even fucking _find_ the man! How could he have been so wrong? He’d never failed at locating Sheppard before; why did he have to fail now?

“Argh!” he growled, dropping his head in his hands.

“I thought you might be down here,” a quiet voice interrupted his mental scolding.

Rodney lifted his head to see Teyla standing a few feet away, looking concerned. “Got the short straw, did you?” Rodney asked sourly, turning away. “Come to remind me of my failure? I’m very much aware of it, believe me.”

“You did not fail,” Teyla said calmly, coming over to lean against the desk.

Rodney snorted in disbelief. “Please,” he said. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Teyla. I failed. And I failed horribly, too, which just makes it worse.”

He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye and she repeated in a firmer tone, “Rodney. You did not fail.”

Her attempts to comfort him were just making him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to be comforted. Not after what had happened. In a burst of anger, Rodney snapped, “Really? I didn’t fail? Because how else would you describe what happened?”

“Rodney,” she started.

He cut her off, twisting the chair so he could face her, knowing his reddened eyes were visible. “I was wrong, Teyla. I screwed up the calculations and sent us on a pointless mission to the wrong planet where the Vanir never were and might never go. Meanwhile, while we were playing meet-the-natives, they went to another planet. A planet that was unable to defend themselves from the attack, we missed our shot at rescuing Sheppard, and innocents died. Please, Teyla, tell me how that’s not all just an epic failure on my part.” His voice had gone from fiery to pleading, almost begging as his voice cracked. Begging her to tell him what he desperately needed to hear.

Teyla put her hands on his shoulders and brought her forehead down to rest against his for a long moment. He closed his eyes, feeling the burn of more tears. Then she said, very gently, “Yes, Rodney, the Vanir attacked a different planet than we had thought. But most of them survived. And we may have saved a whole other civilization from the same fate. That is success, Rodney.”

“But John . . .”

“You are not a miracle worker,” she told him, pulling back with a small smile. “Ronon asked you what you could do that Dr. Zelenka had not, remember?” When he nodded, sniffling slightly, Teyla continued, “We did not expect you to find Colonel Sheppard on your first try. The fact that you have managed this much is a credit to you and Dr. Zelenka. So you were wrong this time. Try again. We do not give up on our people, no?”

John’s maxim. The one he brought with him from the air force and pounded into everyone’s heads, military and civilian alike. Rodney managed a smile for her but it shook. “Thanks, Teyla.”

“What are friends for? I will always be here for you, Rodney, as you are for me.”

His smile was stronger this time and her returning smile was fond. Then he remembered something he’d been wanting to ask but could never find the right time. Now that they were alone, maybe he could ask now. “Hey, um, Teyla, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Rodney bit his lip. “Why didn’t you tell me John was missing?”

Teyla blinked, startled by the question. 

“All those emails we’ve exchanged, you had ample opportunity to tell me and yet . . . you didn’t. I had to learn from Sam right before I came back. Why? You had to know I would come back as soon as I could, that I would want to be a part of any effort to find and rescue him.”

“I—I did know that,” Teyla said after a moment. “But I confess I was unsure.”

“What? Why? About what?”

“I did not wish to ruin your happiness.”

Rodney blinked. “What?”

“You and Jennifer were happy together. I had faith that we would find John; it was only a matter of time. You did not find me quickly when Michael held me captive; I believed it was the same now.” Teyla shrugged. “Why should I offer bad news when there was nothing you could do about it?”

“But there was! Is!” Rodney still didn’t understand. They were team, _family_ , for years. Of _course_ he’d want to come, no matter what. “What if my being here earlier meant that John would be here now, safe, instead of God knows where?”

Teyla let out a breath. “I admit, I have thought of that many times since you came back. But how could we know? Would it have truly changed anything? Perhaps we would still be struggling to locate him.”

“You still should have told me.”

“I should have. You are right; you deserved to know, whether you came to help in the search or not,” Teyla replied. “And that is part of why I was unsure about telling you. I did not know what decision you would make, if you would stay on Earth or return to Atlantis.”

She’d confused him again. “I’d come. How can you not know that I’d always come if any of you were in trouble and needed me?” Had their time apart changed things so much that they didn’t know him anymore?

But Teyla said gently, “I know what your relationship with Jennifer means to you. I know that you love her. But I also know how much John, and this city, mean to you.”

“Loved,” Rodney interrupted. “Well, I mean, I do still care about what happens to her, but just so you know—Jennifer and I are no longer together. We haven’t been for a while but things didn’t officially end until just before I came back.”

Teyla blinked, startled, then smiled. “You are okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“I should have asked before, when she did not come through the Stargate with you.”

“We both had other things on our minds. But still, that shouldn’t have factored into why you didn’t tell me about Sheppard.”

“But it did,” she said a bit sadly. “Jennifer and John both have such a special place in your heart. To force you to give up one or the other, without knowing if the sacrifice was worth it? I could not do that, and that is something that I must live with.”

Rodney didn’t quite know what to say to that. Teyla’s reasoning was logical but also . . . it hurt, a bit. Hearing that she didn’t know if he’d come. “I’d have liked the option,” he replied softly.

Her hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “I know. And I am sorry.”

“So am I. For giving you reason to doubt me.”

“You made your choice, Rodney. We respected it.” The words _even if we disagreed with your choice_ were unspoken but Rodney heard them all the same.

“What if I decide I want to make a different choice now?”

“Then I will welcome whatever time I get to spend with you, my friend. No matter where you reside, you will always be part of my family.” 

A bit of the guilt and anger leeched out of him at the obvious sincerity and warmth in Teyla’s words. For the first time since he’d gone off planet, Rodney felt a little better. He pushed his chair back, stood, and hugged her tight. “Thank you, Teyla. I should find Zelenka and get back to work. We have new data to enter into the map and hopefully we’ll figure out where the Vanir will be with John.”

Teyla’s wide, approving, smile loosened a bit more of the pain from his chest. “Always. Go; Ronon and I will come get you for dinner.”

He wasn’t quite hopeful as he left Teyla in the empty lab, but there was a tiny bit of a spring in his step. He’d failed this time, but he was a scientist. And failure was the best way to figure out the way to do things the right way. Rodney burst into the main lab and went right to Zelenka’s station, surprised yet pleased to find that Radek was already working on the new data.

Zelenka glanced at him briefly. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Rodney grabbed a keyboard. “Let’s find Sheppard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh come on, now, you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?


	5. Chapter Five

In the following days, Atlantis sent aid to M7G-677. The new CMO—Rodney didn’t bother learning her name—took a couple days and several of her staff to the planet. Woolsey sent two ‘gate teams to help get the kids back on their feet and rebuild the settlement. A few Athosians went along as well, knowing how to build better than the Lanteans.

Rodney went, too, that first day. He needed to see, with his own eyes, the destruction he’d . . . if not _caused_ , per se, then what he’d inadvertently had a hand in being unable to prevent, no matter what Teyla said. And he knew John would have gone, would have needled him until he went too.

But other than that initial visit, Rodney locked himself in his lab and worked, only leaving when Teyla and Ronon dragged him out for meals and rest. Other than that, Rodney checked and rechecked each and every bit of data he and Zelenka had gathered. Hell, he quadruple checked every equation, every calculation, every single solution. Rodney was adamant that this time he would be correct. This time, he would find John.

Finally, after getting Zelenka to also quadruple check his work, Rodney was 85% certain that he knew where the Vanir would be. And, it wasn’t the system they’d gone to originally. Which meant that these inhabitants were safe, at least, but another one maybe wasn’t. Hopefully they could get there in time to save not just John but the local population.

But John was the priority, no matter what anyone said. Rodney would do _any_ thing to make sure John Sheppard got home safe.

* * *

The final strike team was comprised of two puddlejumpers and three gate teams. Lorne piloted the first ‘jumper, with his team, Rodney, Ronon and Teyla. Stackhouse piloted the second, with his team and a couple extra Marines as backup. Woolsey stood at the balcony rail, gripping it tightly as he watched them fly through the Stargate, one after another. Rodney knew he was probably thinking the same thing they all were: please, God, let this be right. Let this be a success.

Lorne cloaked the ‘jumper once he was through and headed up into the sky, Stackhouse following suit as he arrived. The event horizon blinked out seconds later. They planned to check on the local village first, to see if the Vanir had hit it yet. “Doc, any sign of the locals?” Lorne asked.

Rodney was already scanning from his spot in the copilot seat. “I’ve got a few life signs, scattered, but I’m not sure . . . Major, can you bring up the HUD?”

A moment later, they were looking at an overhead view of the area around the ‘gate. Lorne shook his head at the display that greeted them. The mood in the ‘jumper dropped and the HUD disappeared. “Damn it. Okay, so we know they’re in the area.” Lorne toggled the radio and called, “Stackhouse, you copy?”

“I copy, Major.”

“The enemy’s been here. Looks like we’re taking this fight into space.”

“Copy that, Major. Taking her up.”

Lorne angled the ‘jumper up while Rodney set the scanners to work, trying to locate where the Vanir had gone after destroying another village. There were three planets in this sector and Rodney had to adjust his calculations to allow for that. They’d just broken through the atmosphere when the sensors let out a _ping_.

The HUD lit up again, the trajectory filling in for Lorne to follow from their position to where Rodney had located something that did not belong in this space. Something large and alien, hovering just beyond the third planet.

Lorne followed the path on the HUD and gradually the Vanir’s spaceship came into view until he no longer needed the HUD. It was clearly visible through the window.

Ronon let out a low whistle. 

Teyla said softly, “That is quite a large ship.”

Rodney initiated a scan of the ship, reading the data input. “It’s not a ship, not like we know it. It looks more like a—a floating lab/spaceship?”

“Alright, folks,” Lorne said to the group and over comms to the other ‘jumper. “This is it. McKay, can you guide us to an airlock or docking bay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” Rodney frowned at his computer screen. Damn Asgard and their encryptions. He hacked the ship’s systems and pulled up a map of the thing. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. But they’re going to know something’s up when I open the bay doors.”

“We’ll have to chance it. Stackhouse, keep your cloak on and stick close to me.”

Stackhouse replied, “Affirmative, sir. On your six.”

Rodney directed Lorne down to the back of the lab/ship then set to work exploiting a weakness in the security code and sent a command to the bay doors, opening them. Lorne slowed the ‘jumper down on the approach, flying carefully in and landing along a wall. A quick call over the radio let them know Stackhouse had landed nearby.

Lorne twisted his chair around and said, “Alright, everyone listen up. We’re only gonna get one shot at this. Stackhouse, you and your team guard the ‘jumpers and be ready to lay down cover fire if we run into trouble on the way back. The rest of you, let’s find Colonel Sheppard. Dr. McKay, you ready?”

Rodney had already pulled out the life signs detector and was programming it to lead them through the ship. “I’m ready.”

Lorne stood. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Ronon and Lorne led the way, moving slowly through the corridors and checking around each and every corner before letting the rest of them go. Rodney was right behind them with Teyla, the rest of Lorne’s team covering the rear. Rodney kept scanning the ship for any indication of where they might be keeping Sheppard. He tried searching for Sheppard’s subcutaneous tracker but they’d either removed it or found a way to deactivate it because it didn’t show up.

“Anything?” Teyla asked quietly.

Rodney started to say no but then something on the scanner caught his eye. Enlarging it, he saw a large group of life signs, actually several groups. There was enough space between each group that Rodney was fairly certain these were cells. _John_. “Major,” he hissed.

Lorne held up a fist to stop the party and looked back at him. “You got him?”

“I think so. We need to go up a floor.”

“I haven’t seen any stairs here, McKay,” Lorne pointed out.

Rodney scowled. “Of course there wouldn’t be stairs, it’s a spaceship! Look, I think I saw an elevator or transporter back the way we came.”

Lorne sighed then headed past him back down the corridor. Reed said quietly as they went, “Anybody else think it odd we haven’t encountered anyone yet?”

Rodney replied absently, still focused on the scanner, “They don’t wander around like humans do. Daniel and I made it through quite a bit of the place before we ran into them. It’s entirely likely that we won’t unless we set off an alarm.”

They made it back to the spot where Rodney had seen the controls for a transporter and squeezed everyone in. A bright light flashed and then the door opened on what looked like the exact same spot they’d just left.

Lorne leaned cautiously out, scanning the area. “You sure that worked?”

Rodney double-checked their location in regards to the cells. “Yep. We’re on the correct floor. We need to take this left.”

Ronon and Lorne took up their lead position again and the team moved cautiously through the ship, following Rodney’s whispered directions. This time, though, they encountered a pair of Vanir walking through the hall up ahead in those exoskeletons that Rodney remembered from his previous visit to a Vanir outpost. Ronon wanted to take them out but Lorne insisted that they not call attention to themselves yet. They hid out of sight until the patrol moved on, then continued on.

Fifteen minutes later, Rodney—eyes glued to the scanner’s screen—whispered, “Stop! The life signs are just up ahead.”

Lorne came back to him. He took a look at the screen then said, “Can you get me a wider view of the corridor?”

Rodney pushed a few buttons and got Lorne what he wanted. Teyla and Ronon crowded around them to see, as well. There were a dozen or so small groups of life signs, spaced out evenly enough to indicate there were three or four people per cell. Four other life signs moved in straight lines, probably patrolling the cells. 

Teyla asked quietly, “Is there no way to tell which cell Colonel Sheppard is in?”

Rodney shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from the collection of dots. He couldn’t help but wonder which dot was John.

Lorne looked up, at the soldiers behind them, then back to the screen, brow furrowed. “Okay,” he said softly and motioned for everyone to move back down the hall a bit so everyone could hear. “This is what we’re going to do. My team’ll go in first, take out the Vanir guards. Once that’s taken care of: McKay, Teyla, Ronon—you come in and start searching the cells for Sheppard. Lt. McCray, you three will stay out here and cover our escape route in case one of the guards manages to send out an alert. Everyone got it?”

Everyone nodded and readied their weapons. Rodney shoved the scanner into a vest pocket and took a breath, his mouth dry. This was it. Go time.

Lorne and his team moved up to the corner, while McCray and his men turned to cover the rear, Rodney, Ronon and Teyla in the middle. Lorne held up a hand, slowly raised three fingers, and stepped around the corner, his team on his heels.

Rodney, Ronon and Teyla moved up to the corner to wait. He couldn’t stand still, not now that they were _so close_ to getting John back. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, tapped his fingers against his thigh, bit his lip. Ronon put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly, and Rodney made a conscious effort to stop fidgeting. Ronon left his hand on Rodney’s shoulder, a bit of comfort and solidarity that reminded him he wasn’t alone in his worry and fear. On his other side, Teyla reached out to grip his hand. The three of them stood linked, waiting to find word of their lost teammate.

Gunfire echoed back to them, from the walls and their radios, the brief spurts indicative of the P-90s interspersed with what had to be some sort of energy blast that came from the Vanir’s weapons. Then it went quiet. Rodney felt the urge to fidget again.

Lorne’s voice crackled in their ears, “All clear.”

Rodney surged forward, rounding the corner in two steps only to stop abruptly, Ronon and Teyla just managing to avoid bumping into him. The guards were down. Lorne, blood dripping from a head wound, was wrapping a pressure bandage around Reed’s bleeding arm. Reed was sitting on the floor, Lorne kneeling beside him. Coughlin and Stevens were double checking that the guards were, indeed, down for the count; Stevens was limping a little as he stood from his crouch and moved to another body. Walker had headed for the other end of the corridor, P90 up and wary.

Lorne looked up and with a tip of his head towards the cells, said impatiently, “Let’s go! We don’t have much time before they send more. Get looking!”

That forced them into movement. They split up, looking in each cell for John. It took far longer than it should because the cells were all locked and Rodney did not have time to hack into every single one of them. He tried just scanning the bodies—and he shuddered at calling the prisoners that—but quickly realized that it was hard to identify if they were even male or female. It would be impossible to tell which one was Sheppard without actually getting up close and checking.

Ronon came up with the solution. In typical caveman soldier fashion, he drew his pistol and went around firing his photon beams right at the locks to melt them. From there, it was easy enough for him to pull hard enough to break the seams and open the doors. Rodney and Teyla dashed into each cell Ronon opened, checking each and every body.

They searched and searched, finishing one side of the prison corridor, and no sign of John. Despair was threatening to drag him under. What if he was wrong? What if John wasn’t here? Or, worse, what if the Vanir had already done their experiments on him and John was dead? Teyla gave him a quick smile as she passed on her way to the next cell and Rodney drew in a breath, firmly reminding himself that there were still cells. There was still hope that they’d find John in one of them.

Rodney pushed open the next cell door and stepped in, kneeling down next to the first body on the floor. Turning it on its side, Rodney found it was a she. He moved on to the next and closed his eyes briefly. This one was dead, the body cold enough to have been dead a while. There was one other prisoner in this cell, lying away from the first two along the back wall. Rodney stepped over the poor dead prisoner and made his way over to the final occupant.

Black shirt, black pants—both torn and bloody, but oh so familiar. Rodney’s heart skipped a beat. And that hair . . . Rodney practically fell to the floor, reaching out to tug on the bony shoulder. John Sheppard fell onto his back in front of Rodney, pale, bruised, dirty, the beginnings of a beard covering his cheeks and chin, and unconscious. 

“Ronon! Teyla!” he yelled. “I got him!”

He heard them call something back but barely heard them, too busy frantically feeling for a pulse. Rodney nearly collapsed with relief when he felt it beating rapidly beneath his fingertips. _Oh thank god._ “John? John, can you hear me? Come on, wake up,” he pleaded.

John didn’t react.

_No._ Rodney shook him. “Sheppard! Hey, it’s Rodney, come on, wake up!”

“McKay?” Ronon had arrived.

“Ronon, good, get over here,” Rodney said, his hands still gripping John. His eyes never left John’s face. _He was alive_. “John? Come on, just—just open your eyes.”

Ronon knelt down beside them as John groaned a little, his eyelids fluttering. “I can carry him,” Ronon offered.

Rodney nodded, starting to realize that John wasn’t going to regain consciousness and they did need to get out of here while they could. He reluctantly let go and scooted back to let Ronon move in.

John mumbled, “R’d . . . n’y . . .”

Rodney shoved Ronon out of the way. “Yes! John, it’s me, I’m here. We’re gonna get you outta here, okay? Just hang in there.”

Lorne asked, “Hey, have you found him yet? We need to think about getting out of here. They’re going to be coming to check on the guards at some point and I’d rather we were long gone.” Rodney looked over his shoulder to see the Major and Teyla in the cell doorway. Blood trickled down his left temple, but he held his gun at the ready.

Rodney nodded and this time stood up, moving out of Ronon’s way. Ronon slid an arm under John’s knees, the other under his shoulders, and gently scooped John into his arms. Soft little whimpering sounds escaped John’s lips as Ronon stood, cradling John against him. John’s head flopped onto Ronon’s shoulder and Rodney’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. It hurt to see the strong Colonel this way. John never let on that he was in pain so to see . . . to _hear_ John like this . . .

It was wrong on so many levels.

Teyla’s hand found his and squeezed. He squeezed back and watched Ronon carefully step out into the corridor. He and Teyla exited afterwards to find Stevens leaning on Coughlin and Reed stood beside Walker, bandaged arm pinned to his side. Lorne looked over Sheppard, his jaw tense, then he said, “Let’s go.”

As they left the prison corridor behind and joined McCray and the others, though, Teyla stopped and looked back. Her voice was taut with concern as she asked them, “What about the others? There are many prisoners who need medical attention.”

Sgt. Tanaka asked, with a sharp glance at Lorne, “Others? Not just the Colonel? How many other people have these guys captured?”

“Too many,” Lorne answered, his expression bleak. He turned to Teyla. “We can’t help them all, Teyla. I know you want to, but we can’t. Especially if they’re in a similar condition as the Colonel.”

Teyla frowned. “Colonel Sheppard would want us to help them.”

Ronon said bluntly, “Sheppard can’t give orders right now. We get him out. If we can, we come back.”

Lorne added, “He’s right. And we need to get moving; we’ve stayed in one spot too long. McCray, take the lead.”

McCray nodded and stepped out, his P-90 up and ready, the rest of the strike team falling into place behind him. Rodney pulled out his scanner and kept pace with Ronon, glancing every few steps at John. Teyla did not look happy but fell into step just behind him and Ronon. They retraced their path back to the transporter, took it down a level, then Rodney had to direct them back to where they’d parked the ‘jumpers with Stackhouse. Every now and then John would make a soft sound, like he was in pain or maybe trying to talk. When Rodney glanced over, he caught Ronon checking on John, as well. He knew that Ronon was doing his best to be as careful as possible, trying not to jostle him as they hurried through the ship, but it was hard to keep from telling him to be careful.

The alarms, of course, sounded as the group reached the final few corridors. There was a shrieking noise that ripped through the ship, startling everyone. John groaned as Ronon—along with everyone else—stumbled to a stop. Lorne looked around, caught Rodney’s eye and demanded, “How much further to the ‘jumpers?”

Rodney quickly pulled up a wider map on the scanner. “A left then a right and the door we came through should be at the end of that corridor.”

Lorne ordered, “Move it!”

McCray set a faster pace, their feet pounding on the floor. Another shrieking noise ripped through the corridor as they turned left, deafening them for a moment. _Please let John be unconscious_ , Rodney thought with a quick look at his friend. He couldn’t handle it if the rescue actually injured him further.

The group swung right and McCray picked up the pace again. Lorne called ahead to Stackhouse, letting him know to get ready. Then they were through the doorway, Lorne sprinting ahead to get the puddlejumper ready. Rodney’s breath came in short bursts—damn, he was out of practice. It could have been worse, though, if he hadn’t kept up with his workouts while on Earth.

The rear door of the ‘jumper lowered, closing behind them as Ronon gently set John down on one of the benches in the back. Rodney checked his pulse again, wishing they’d brought someone from medical with them. Lorne had vetoed it at the time, saying the space was better occupied with a Marine but they really should have brought one along. The ‘jumpers lifted off and headed for the bay doors, the backdoor hack Rodney had utilized upon their arrival being used by Coughlin in Lorne’s co-pilot seat to open them up.

Another shrieking noise reached them, along with the unmistakable sound of the bay doors closing. “McKay!” Lorne shouted. 

“On it!” he shouted back, rushing forward and shoving Coughlin out of the co-pilot seat, fingers already flying across the puddlejumper’s control panel as he sat. “Damn it!” he muttered. They’d found his hack. Lorne kept heading for the doors, clearly confident that Rodney could get them back open in time. Rodney gritted his teeth and scanned line after line of code, searching for—aha! He quickly punched a hole in the sequence and put his own coding in then looked up. 

The doors were slowly sliding open again.

His job done, Rodney gave up the co-pilot seat and went into the back. Teyla had found a couple of blankets somewhere and had slid one under John’s head, the other one draped over his torso. God, he was so pale. John’s eyelids fluttered, his right hand dangling off the edge of the bench. Rodney brushed his knuckle against John’s cheek. “Hang on, John,” he whispered.

Of course, just as they escaped out into space, that was when the Vanir started firing their ship’s weapons at them.

“How are they aiming?” Reed asked from his spot in the doorway between the cockpit and rear of the ‘jumper. “We’re cloaked! They shouldn’t be able to aim this accurately!”

Assuming the question was directed at him, Rodney snapped, “How the hell am I supposed to know? They’re Asgard! We already know their technology is far more advanced than ours.”

“But we’re in an Ancient ship!” Reed protested, one hand braced against the opposite side of the doorway. “That’s just as old, if not older.”

“Did I not just say they’re Asgard?” Rodney snapped, twisting to scan the containers above him, searching for the ‘jumper’s first aid kit. “I’m lucky I understand Ancient technology as well as I do. I don’t have nearly as much experience working with Asgard tech, not that Hermiod shares. Arrogant know-it-all,” he added in a mutter as he stood and started working the kit free of the netting.

Ronon reached over his head and lifted it free just as the ‘jumper rocked, sending Rodney stumbling backwards into Ronon. Ronon steadied him with a grip on his shoulder. Rodney snapped, “Hey, could you try _not_ to fly into the enemy fire!”

Lorne snapped back, “Doing the best I can! How’s the Colonel?”

Ronon handed him the first aid kit. Rodney took it with a nod of thanks and knelt next to John again, popping the lid open. “He’ll be better once we get him home! Sooner rather than later! And preferably in one piece!” John’s hand twitched and Rodney paused to reach over and give it a quick squeeze. _Come on, think_. He knew basic first aid by this point. Carson had taught him this. Even John had taught him emergency field first aid. Why couldn’t he figure out what to do first?

Teyla interjected gently, “Perhaps something to dull the pain?”

Right. Duh. He started rifling through the kit, frustration growing. How could they only have pills? No injections? No liquids? How was he going to get John to take _pills_ if he was unconscious? 

The ‘jumper rocked again, more violently than before, and derailed his thoughts.

Teyla said sharply, “Rodney!”

He looked up. John had slid partially off the bench, Teyla grabbing for him to keep him from sliding the rest of the way but she couldn’t pull him back up, not at the angle she was at. Rodney swore and helped lift John back up and onto the bench, pulling the blanket back over him. Damn it, this was not helping! He lifted John’s hand and placed it on top of the blanket, thumb stroking the back of his hand. John’s brow was furrowed, chest rising and falling rapidly. He needed medical attention, _now_.

Lorne called, “McKay, I need the shield up!”

Unable to keep the irritation out of his voice, Rodney called back, “Think _on_!”

Lorne sounded just as irritated when he replied, “If it was working, I would. I can’t get the ‘jumper to switch from cloak to shield. Something’s wrong, there’s a—a hitch or something when I try.”

“Goddammit!” Rodney huffed a breath. “What the hell do you need the shield for, anyway?”

“Because in case you hadn’t noticed—” the lights overhead flickered—“the cloak isn’t doing us much good! So how about you get that shield up!”

Rodney scrambled for his tablet, grumbling under his breath, “Always how it is. Damn soldiers always breaking the ‘jumpers just when you need them the most and expect me to fix it when my attention is better spent elsewhere. Alright, where the hell is my—oh.” Ronon handed his tablet to him. “Thanks.”

Rodney stood and moved past Ronon and the soldiers into the cockpit, bracing himself with a hand on the walls as he headed for the nearest open port. The wide expanse of space, glittering with stars, greeted him outside the ‘jumper’s viewport. He spared a quick thought wondering why the hell Lorne hadn’t gone straight for the Stargate before plugging his tablet into the puddlejumper. A moment later, he had diagnostics running on the shield’s systems, trying to find out why the shield wasn’t—oh. Alright, well, that was why. 

The Vanir’s energy weapons, when they’d scored a direct hit on the ‘jumper, had caused damage to certain systems. 

The ‘jumper rocked again. Reed snatched the back of Rodney’s vest as he swayed and John let out a groan loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the fight. “Sorry,” Lorne called, “couldn’t avoid that one. McKay, how we doing back there?”

Rodney bit his lip, glanced worriedly at John. Teyla had moved to kneel alongside the bench, running her fingers through John’s hair as if trying to reassure him. Right. Focus. The sooner he found the problem, the sooner they could get home, and the sooner they could get John some real help.

Rodney tried writing a sequence of commands that would force the power he needed to go where he wanted it but that failed.

Lorne swore. “Lost the cloak.”

Shit. 

“Anytime now, McKay!”

“Working on it!” Rodney pressed his lips together and tried to reroute power around the damaged systems and into the shield generator. It tried and while he waited, Rodney said, “You know I can only do this to our ‘jumper, right? I can’t help Stackhouse without physically being there.”

“Don’t worry about Stackhouse. They’ve got their shield up,” Lorne replied, “but for some reason, the majority of weapons fire is coming at us, even with them trying to cover us.”

The reroute failed. Rodney scowled at his tablet. “Okay, now you’re just being difficult,” he muttered as he continued to fight with the Ancient technology. Then something occurred to him and he asked the group as a whole, “Wait, you said they’re focusing on us? Do they somehow know that Sheppard’s on _this_ ‘jumper?” His fingers flew across the screen of his tablet, error signs popping up with every attempted command. “How the hell would they—oh, fuck. That’s not—okay, fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Ronon asked as Rodney disconnected his tablet and moved back into the rear of the puddlejumper. 

He shoved his tablet at Ronon and peeled off a ceiling panel, peering at the crystals within. “I’m going to have to do this the hard way.” Pulling out crystal after crystal, Rodney checked them, holding each one up to eye level, using the ‘jumper’s lights to check for fractures or dead spots. 

Another blast of the Vanir’s energy weapon sent panic flying through him and he rapidly threw his arms apart, a crystal gripped tight in each hand. “Hey!” he yelled. “Take it easy! If these crystals break, we are dead!”

Lorne didn’t bother responding but Rodney did hear Stackhouse through the comms then, checking their status. Rodney ignored the rest of the conversation and went back to work, engrossed in the tedious job of checking each and every crystal. Eleven crystals later, he found the problem. The crystal, usually lit from within somehow, had gone dark. And not just in spots, but completely dark. That must have been why he couldn’t get the power to go to the shield.

“That’s not good,” Ronon said.

“No shit,” Rodney said shortly. He pocketed the dark crystal and asked Ronon, “Can you get my pack? Hopefully I’ve got a spare in there that will work.” He shot a look at John as Ronon retrieved Rodney’s pack. Teyla had one hand on his forehead, the other holding his hand. He thought he heard her humming softly, probably some sort of Athosian lullaby or something. He hoped it was comforting.

Ronon returned with the pack and held it out. Rodney snatched it and shoved a hand in, searching by touch. Rummaging through, he discarded objects until his questing fingers finally found the hard container with spare crystals he brought with him on all off world missions and yanked it out. Rodney dropped the pack, popped the container open and scanned the contents. He grabbed a likely looking replacement and, reaching up, carefully slid it into the empty slot, praying. “Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath.

It lit up. “Major!” Rodney immediately bellowed, “try it now!”

Nothing visibly happened but there was an air of relief from the cockpit. Lorne’s voice seemed less tense as he congratulated Rodney, “Great job, McKay! Alright, folks, let’s head home.”

“Just like you never left, huh,” Ronon said as Rodney closed the panel back up.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Rodney snarked, “the one thing I missed most of all was trying to save the day before we all died horribly.”

Ronon chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “You complain, but we both know you missed it.”

Rodney tried to glare at him but Ronon was right. It may not have been the thing he missed most of all, but he had missed this. Missed them. That was the other reason he’d come back, after all. For his friends.

For his family.

Ronon must have seen something of that in his face because he nodded and stepped aside so Rodney could move past. Rodney smiled gratefully at him then headed back to John. Reclaiming his spot, he asked Teyla, “How’s he doing? He wake up?”

She shook her head. “He feels warm and not because of the blanket.”

“Warm? Or hot, like he’s got a fever?” Rodney pressed a hand to John’s forehead, his stomach sinking. Christ, he could feel the heat emanating from his skin. Of course, because life just had to add one more bad thing to the sum total of bad things that happened to Sheppard. He gripped John’s hand tight and said firmly, hoping his panic and fear wasn’t audible, “Now you listen here, Sheppard, I did not come all this way to save you just to have you succumb to some weak-ass fever, alright? Do not give up on me, you hear me?”

John’s fingers pressed feebly against his. “Rod . . . . n’y . . .”

Rodney forced a smile to his lips, hoping John could hear it. “That’s right, John. I’m here and you’re going to hang on until we get to Atlantis, you got that?”

“Atlantis, this is Major Lorne,” Lorne said over the comms.

Woolsey answered, “Good to hear from you, Major. Was the mission a success?”

Lorne hesitated before answering, “We succeeded in rescuing Colonel Sheppard from the ship. Requesting a medical team meet us in the Gate Room.”

Woolsey didn’t respond right away but his voice was neutral when he did finally respond, “Understood, Major. See you soon.”


	6. Chapter Six

_A day ago_

It took some doing but Rodney managed it. After talking with Jennifer—which still seemed to have gone way too easily—Rodney put in his notice at the university. He was leaving, effective pretty much immediately. He gave them about a week which was enough time, in his opinion, to pick one of the moderately intelligent lecturers to take over his course load.

He tried reaching out to Sam again, but nothing. Maybe she was off world? Regardless, Rodney was going back, no matter who he had to blackmail, threaten, or otherwise coerce into helping him get to Atlantis. When Rodney finally booked his flight to Colorado Springs, it was with the feeling of _finally_ in his heart. It was time.

He wanted to go home.

Wanted to see Teyla and Ronon and Radek.

Wanted to see if John loved him like Jeannie said he did, like Rodney loved him.

So Rodney packed up the things he’d accumulated over the course of the last few months and went back to the state that had set him on the path that led him to Atlantis and John. 

He did not expect the knock that came four days after his return to Colorado. Sitting on the secondhand couch he’d bought, Rodney was on his third cup of coffee of the evening while going over an article published in one of the scientific journals he used to publish in, marking whole paragraphs with his red pen. God, the scientific community had really gone downhill. The knock came again, startling him. “Damn it,” he muttered and stood, stretching so his back cracked. He sipped his now tepid coffee and headed for the door, weaving amongst the boxes he hadn’t bothered emptying, not when he was going to leave as soon as the _Daedalus_ returned to Earth. That was his backup plan, since Sam finally got back to him with news that his trip had been approved.

Yanking the door open, Rodney was fully prepared to snap at the person on the other side to leave him alone but the sight stopped him in his tracks, his mouth dropping open.

“Hi, Rodney.”

“Sam?” Rodney stared at her for a minute. “What—what are you doing here?”

Sam Carter gave him a tight smile. “Can I come in?”

“Uh—uh, sure. Um. Yeah.” Still surprised to see her—he’d been certain she was in Washington with O’Neill—Rodney stepped aside to let her pass him. “Sorry about the boxes. I haven’t really bothered unpacking.”

“No problem. I know you’re waiting and besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen your place before. Actually,” Sam smiled, “this is cleaner than I remember your room in Atlantis being.”

Rodney shut the door and rolled his eyes. “Har har.” It registered at that point that Sam was in civvies, not her SGC uniform. “What are you doing here?” 

“I need to tell you something, Rodney, and I’m not really sure how you’re going to take it.”

Rodney crossed his arms and eyed her warily. This was adding up to equal bad news. “Okay. What is it?”

Sam hesitated.

“Oh no,” Rodney said before she could start talking. “Don’t tell me: Landry won’t let me go back. Or—or there’s some sort of paperwork issue, something that’s going to prevent me from leaving. Did the _Daedalus_ get new orders or was delayed or—”

“Rodney!” Sam interrupted his flow of words. “Rodney, stop! That’s not it. That’s not it, at all. Okay, you’re still going back, nothing’s stopping that. It’s just . . . you’re going back a bit— _earlier_ —than you thought.”

“Okay . . .” he said slowly. “This is obviously _good_ news so why the serious look?”

“Well.” Sam bit her lip. “It’s, um, well . . . something’s happened.”

Rodney narrowed his eyes, feeling that old feeling in his gut. That feeling that he used to get on missions when something seriously, dangerously, wrong was about to happen and he started paying more attention to what John and Ronon were doing than the tech he was investigating. “What?” he said warily. “What’s happened?”

Sam made a face, looked around the room then back at Rodney. “Maybe you should sit.”

Rodney frowned. “Look, just tell me already. You’re making it worse by delaying.”

“Okay.” Sam took a deep breath, held his gaze and said gently, “John’s gone missing.”

Rodney really wished he had taken Sam’s advice and sat because it would have saved him from the sudden dizziness that hit him as the blood drained from his face and all the oxygen left his lungs. Rodney swayed on the spot, so much so that Sam lunged forward and helped him to a seat on the couch. “What—what did you just say?” he asked weakly, praying he’d heard her wrong.

Sam cleared a spot on the coffee table and sat opposite him. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Rodney, but John’s been listed as missing-in-action.”

He dropped his head in his hands. No. No no no, this wasn’t happening! Not when he was about to go back! When he felt he could speak without screaming, Rodney lifted his head and asked, “How? When? Why hasn’t anyone _told_ me?” 

His voice cracked at the end but Sam didn’t comment on it. She rested a hand on his arm and said, “I don’t know why no one’s told you. I only learned upon my return to the SGC. I wasn’t in the email loop.”

“Sam . . .”

“His team was off-world. They’d gotten some intel and were checking something out. Details were fuzzy but from what I gather, they were ambushed and separated. In the chaos, John was taken. We don’t know by whom and we don’t know where they went.” Sam’s voice was gentle, calm, as she uttered the words that threatened to completely shatter Rodney’s life. “My information says this happened a couple of weeks ago.”

Weeks. John had been—had been captured by an unknown enemy and they’d had him for two _weeks_. That was if they hadn’t outright killed him by this point. His eyes burned and he squeezed them shut. He couldn’t think that way, he _couldn’t_. He’d spent five years refusing to accept that Sheppard could actually die; he couldn’t change that thinking now. John had made an art out of defying death.

“I’m sure he’s alive, Rodney,” Sam said very softly, apparently following his thought process. “Atlantis won’t give up on looking for him, you know that.”

He did. They’d spent longer looking for Teyla and succeeded. But they’d had a vague idea of who had taken her then. With John . . . . Rodney sucked in a ragged breath and lifted his head. Sam’s blue eyes shone with sympathy. “You—” he cleared his throat, “you said something about going home earlier?”

Sam smiled at him. “I did. The _Daedalus_ has been delayed—nothing to be concerned about—but it does mean that General Landry will be dialing Atlantis to send through some interim supplies and staff additions. I’ve arranged for you to be on that list. So if you can get everything you want to bring to Atlantis with you into the mountain . . . how does tomorrow sound?”

Rodney could have kissed her. “Thank you, Sam. For telling me and for getting me there so I can help find him.”

“Of course! As soon as I read that, I knew I had to let you know. I’ve been there before, too, and it is . . . it’s hard.” She offered a sympathetic smile and added, “And I had to hide my feelings, too, so I understand more than you think.”

Rodney stuttered, “I—it’s—I—”

Sam grinned. “Don’t forget, I spent a year watching the two of you bounce off each other. I assume that’s partly why you wanted to go back?”

“You knew?”

“Of course. I’m not blind, Rodney.”

“But you never said anything.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Couldn’t. Didn’t want to jeopardize John’s position in Atlantis. He’s too integral to the place. I always figured one day you’d do something about it. Guess I was right.”

“Yeah, I just have to find him first.” Rodney blew out his breath. Christ, the universe hated him, didn’t it? Just when he finally thought he’d gotten his chance with John, the universe yanked him away.

“You will. It’s not like you to give up.” Sam squeezed his hand then got to her feet. “Alright, so, I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“Yes, you will.” He saw her out the door then went and collapsed back onto the couch, his face in his hands again. Rodney let himself dwell for only a couple minutes, then he straightened, rubbed his eyes and nose, then went to sort through the boxes. Whoever the bastards were that took the man he loved would pay, just as soon as John was safely home.

Please, oh god, _please_ let him be okay.

He had to be okay.

* * *

_Present Day_

Lorne landed the ‘jumper on the Gate Room floor after Stackhouse flew up to land in the ‘jumper bay. It was easier for the med staff to get to the Gate Room than the bay. The rear door lowered slowly. Rodney glanced at the lowering door, knowing there was a medical team waiting to get in but he didn’t know the staff anymore. He had no idea who would be in charge of John’s care without Carson or Jennifer on staff. And the ‘jumper was fairly full. 

Ronon solved things by announcing, “Move. I’ll carry him out to the stretcher.”

Relieved that someone who knew and cared about John would be moving him, Rodney got to his feet and stepped to the side, next to Teyla. Ronon crouched down next to the bench and—just as before on the lab/ship—very gently and carefully lifted John into his arms, blanket and all, then headed down the ramp. Several people in white lab coats greeted him and Rodney lost sight of John.

He started for the ramp himself, intending to follow and harangue whomever the infirmary staff had sent, but something pulled him back. Nothing he could name, no one grabbing him or stopping him. In fact, Lorne and his team were stomping down the ramp while he hesitated. Rodney turned around and caught sight of Teyla, still standing in the same place, a worried frown on her face.

“What is it?” he asked, coming over to stand beside her.

Teyla gave him a sad smile. “I am grateful and relieved that Colonel Sheppard is home safely.”

Rodney raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“But . . .” she sighed. “I just wish we had rescued more of the prisoners.”

“We couldn’t. Lorne was right, Teyla, we had to get John out while we could.”

“I know that he was our priority but I cannot help but worry for those who could have used our medical resources but will not receive them.”

Rodney cast about for something, some way to reassure her. To ease her mind of the guilt of leaving them behind, just like she had tried to ease his guilt over what had happened to Keras and the kids. “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll talk to Radek. We’ll work out the next likely stopping point and we’ll convince Lorne and Woolsey to go on another rescue mission. This time, we rescue as many as we can.”

Teyla smiled warmly at him and rested a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Thank you, Rodney. That is a wonderful idea.”

Rodney shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, it’ll give him something useful to do until I can get back into the labs full time.”

She laughed a little and finally started towards the ramp, Rodney following her. “I am very glad to have you back in Atlantis, Rodney. I have missed you these past months; we all have. How long will you be staying?”

They stepped off the ramp into the Gate Room. Rodney glanced around and found that John and the medical team were gone. Off to the side, Ronon was talking with Lorne. Well, Lorne was talking. Ronon was standing there. 

They stopped just beside the ‘jumper and Rodney shifted his feet. “Um, you remember what we talked about the other day? About—about choices?”

Teyla nodded, waiting.

Rodney bit his lip. “I’m—I’m making that different choice. I’m . . . I want to move back here, for real, and I want to go back to work in the labs and I want to be back on the team. I’m choosing Atlantis.”

Teyla’s face split into the widest smile he’d yet seen from her since his return. “Oh Rodney, I am so happy to hear that.”

Relief swept through him. He hadn’t been sure he’d be welcomed back, despite everything that was telling him the opposite. “Really?”

“Of course!” Teyla reached up and drew his forehead down to hers. “Believe me, Rodney, this is wonderful news.”

“What is?” Lorne asked. Rodney jerked away, startled. He hadn’t even noticed Ronon and Lorne approaching.

“What?”

Lorne glanced between them. “Someone’s got good news? I’d sure like to have some of that right about now.”

Teyla beamed first at Rodney, then at Ronon and Lorne. “Rodney has just informed me that his visit here will be permanent.”

Lorne grinned. “That’s a relief. You’re annoying, McKay, but you’re the best there is in the business. And it’ll keep Sheppard from moping, finally. I was already trying to find a way around telling him you were leaving after he got better.”

Rodney blinked. “I—he—moping? Sheppard? We are talking about the same person, right?”

“Yep.” Lorne nodded. “Did you know he’s actually doing his own paperwork? I’ve never seen him in his office so much before. And not just doing his paperwork, he’s all caught up, which leaves me with free time. Of course, he changes the subject whenever I bring it up, but now that you’re back,” Lorne clapped him on the shoulder, “things should get back to normal. Or what passes for normal around here, anyway.”

Rodney stared at him. John doing paperwork—on time—was such a strange concept. John disliked paperwork with a passion that bordered on the absurd and shoved it all onto Lorne whenever possible. The time it must take to do it all on his own . . . . was typically time he spent with Rodney, Rodney suddenly realized. John coming down to the labs, bothering him, dragging him out for movies or video games . . . all those hours they spent hanging out together were suddenly empty blocks of time that John had had to fill when Rodney didn’t return to Pegasus with everyone. It was no wonder he’d sought something time-consuming to fill his usual annoy Rodney hours.

“Hey, I have to go brief Woolsey on the mission. I’ll swing by the infirmary later, okay?” Lorne nodded to Ronon and Teyla. “Good to have you back, McKay,” he said then left.

Rodney, Ronon and Teyla headed for the infirmary. It was only as they were stepping into the transporter that Rodney found himself asking, “John’s been moping?” _He missed me_. That was a welcome burst of warmth. 

Teyla answered, “He has missed you, even though he has never said it.”

“Oh.” Rodney hit the map location. There was a flash of light then the doors opened and they stepped out to continue on their way. 

Ronon bumped his shoulder. “So now that you’re back for good, you’re gonna do it, right? Tell Sheppard how you feel? Because I can’t keep watching you two deny your feelings. We’d never do that on Sateda.”

“Well, this isn’t Sateda and the American military is terribly repressed—”

“Rodney,” Teyla gently interjected.

Rodney flushed. “So, um, you—you knew? That—that I—that he?”

“Kinda hard not to,” Ronon replied, turning sideways to avoid bumping into an airman.

“Did everyone know that Sheppard liked me but me?” Rodney complained.

Teyla gave Rodney a sympathetic smile. “We have known for quite some time. It has been difficult to watch and know that neither of you would ever say anything. But that will change, now, yes? That is why you broke up with Jennifer, is it not?”

Rodney sighed. “Yeah, well, there was his military and some . . . misunderstandings and miscommunication between us. And, yeah.”

“So you are going to tell him, then?” Ronon asked.

“I, um, well. Yes.” Rodney took a breath. “Yes, that was—is—why I wanted to come back. I recently received some, um, new information that has changed things and yes. I am. Going to tell Sheppard—John—and hope that he doesn’t punch me or hate me.”

“He won’t,” Ronon replied as they arrived at the infirmary.

The infirmary was bustling, as it usually was after a mission by the flagship team, but it didn’t make much sense. Only Sheppard and a couple members of Lorne’s team had been injured. But as they stepped inside, nurses dashed past, orders for medication or equipment were being called out. Rodney had a flash of panic at the sudden noise and frantic movement but he forced it down and grabbed the first person he could. As his fingers wrapped around the woman’s arm, he demanded, “How’s Sheppard?”

She yanked her arm free, glaring at him. “Colonel Sheppard is in surgery which is where I need to be,” and she hurried away.

Rodney frowned after her. “Who’s that?”

“Dr. Alexandra Granger,” Teyla answered. “She took over the department when Dr. Keller decided she did not want to return to Pegasus. Alexandra is stern but good at her job.”

Rodney crossed his arms. “She better be,” he muttered.

“Come on,” Ronon said. “There’s some chairs over there. Don’t know ‘bout you but I’m not standing while we wait for news on Sheppard.”

And so they settled in to wait. It was an eerily familiar scene, the three of them sitting against the wall of the infirmary, desperately awaiting word on the condition of their injured teammate. Lorne did swing by at one point to see if they’d heard anything, along with bringing coffee and power bars for them. Rodney couldn’t eat, just nibbled at his. He was too worried, too anxious to hear if John was going to be okay. Zelenka came by, too. Rodney was grateful for his arrival by that point. They’d been waiting with no word for a couple of hours by then and this way he could _do_ something. He and Radek made a good start on that tracking program for Teyla and Radek left to go run the numbers in the lab.

Finally, Dr. Granger came out to where they sat, tugging the strings of her surgical mask off her ears. They all jumped to their feet as she approached, hope in every line of their bodies. The lines around her eyes and mouth stood out, her shoulders slumped and she gratefully took the seat that Ronon gestured to. Holding up a hand to forestall their questions, Granger said tiredly, “He’s going to be okay.”

Rodney swayed in relief, a hand over his mouth and eyes closing briefly. Ronon gripped his shoulder tight and Teyla said, very quietly, “Thank the Ancestors.”

_The Ancestors didn’t do a damned thing_ , Rodney thought, but he’d thank them anyway, if they had even a hint of a hand in saving John.

“He is running a fever, severely dehydrated and underweight. There’s evidence that he was drugged, probably to keep him from fighting back. I’ve got him on an IV line, trying to flush the last of it from his system and get some antibiotics into him,” Granger continued. She rubbed her eyes. “Not to mention whatever they did to the Colonel while they held him prisoner. There are lacerations and incisions all along his torso and some on his upper arms. Most show signs of healing but there are plenty that are more recent.”

Rodney was pretty sure he was looking at Granger in horror at this laundry list of Sheppard’s injuries.

Granger finished with, “I’ve got him sedated for now; hopefully that will jumpstart the healing process.”

Rodney dropped back into his chair, leaned forward, and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Tried to process what Granger had just told them. This was . . . He’d known what the Vanir were doing, had almost been subjected to it himself. And he’d known that spending over a month as a prisoner meant that John had been injured, no doubt tortured, but this . . . . John was home and he was going to be okay. Rodney just had to remind himself of that. That was what mattered right now. Whatever had been done to him, they’d get through it. Just like they always did. It couldn’t be worse than when he was turning into a bug, right?

“May we see him?” Teyla asked.

Rodney looked up at that. Yes, yes, he needed to see John. To _know_ that he was going to be okay.

But Granger was pursing her lips, clearly reluctant to let them in. “Colonel Sheppard needs to rest.”

Teyla pressed, “Surely a few minutes would not affect his rest.”

Granger still hesitated then sighed, capitulating. “Alright. But only one of you. And only for a few minutes. His condition is too unstable for more than that.”

Teyla and Ronon immediately turned to Rodney. He blinked several times. “Wait, me?”

“Yes.” Teyla nodded. “You go, Rodney.”

“But—but what about you two? Don’t you want to—”

“You have not seen John in nearly a year, Rodney.” Teyla gave him a gentle push. “Go. We will visit him another time. He needs you right now.”

As much as Rodney felt he should insist they _all_ go in . . . the opportunity to have a moment alone with John—even if he was unconscious—was too much of a temptation to refuse. All the same, Rodney hugged Teyla tightly and whispered, “Thank you,” in her ear.

She smiled and said, “We will wait for you out here.”

John had been moved into a room that had become the isolation/Atlantis ICU and when the door _snick_ ed shut behind Rodney, it cut off all sound in the room except for the steady _beep beep beep_ of the heart monitor. Rodney slowly approached the bed and stared down at his best friend. He hadn’t really had time to really look at John earlier, having been too preoccupied with getting him out of the cell and then with having to repair the puddlejumper mid-escape. But now he took the time.

John looked so . . . . fragile.

He had those tubes in his nose that were supposed to help people breathe, the IV bag and a blood transfusion, and, of course, the heart monitor attached to his fingertip. _So pale_. It wasn’t right that John should be that pale or fragile-looking, his eyes practically sunken into his face. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, a side effect of the fever due to the infection his poor body was trying to fight off. Rodney brushed a knuckle against his cheek, felt the warmth of John’s skin, and felt like he could finally take a full breath.

A blanket was pulled up to John’s armpits, his arms on top so the nurses could reach his veins, hands palm down on the blanket. His fingers were curled slightly against the blanket. He noticed that they’d left the beard and Rodney smiled a little. He knew that would be the first to go once John was released. John disliked facial hair. Besides, the last time he’d seen John with a beard had been when John had gotten trapped in that time dilation forced ascension place. Not a good memory for either of them.

Rodney’s breath shook as he let it out. He ran a hand lightly down John’s arm, folding his limp fingers within his own. Rodney cleared his throat, bent over, and said softly, “John? It’s—it’s me. Rodney. Um, I—I know that you probably can’t hear me, but I’m—I’m here. I came home. For you.”

Even though he expected it, he was still a little disappointed when there was no response. John slept on, oblivious to Rodney’s presence, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths under the blanket.

“I love you,” Rodney whispered, leaning closer still. He squeezed John’s hand. “And we’ll have all the time in the world to figure it out, how to make this work. You just get better, okay?” He smoothed John’s hair back, bent down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

The door opened and Dr. Granger called, “Okay, time’s up. Let’s let the Colonel get some rest.”

Rodney nodded, pressed one last kiss to John’s forehead, and whispered, “I’ll be back soon, promise.”

Ronon and Teyla took up position on either side of him as he exited, neither one commenting on the fact that his eyes were red or that he couldn’t speak. They headed for Teyla’s quarters, none of them wanting to be alone. Kanaan was there, with Torren, and he took one look at their faces—at Rodney’s face—and offered a cup of Athosian tea. Braced by his friends and teammates on either side, Rodney wrapped his hands around his tea and wondered how he had ever managed to convince himself that giving this up had been a good idea.

There was no way in hell he was _ever_ leaving Pegasus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting this next chapter. I've spent the past week laid up with the flu and unable to do much. As always, I really appreciate all of my readers, I hope you like where the story is going and here's the next bit.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Five minutes ago_

Rodney watched the event horizon _kawhoosh_ into existence and felt something flip in his stomach. It had been _months_ since he’d been this close to a Stargate and he’d missed it. So. Damn. Much. He wasn’t meant to sit in a classroom or a lab belowground. He needed the freedom of his own lab but he also missed hearing the sound of the water lapping against Atlantis’ piers. Atlantis had shown him what he could do, what kind of person he could be. It was like a part of himself was missing and preparing to go through the ‘gate had given that back to him.

Rodney was going home.

The assorted soldiers and scientists who were being assigned to Atlantis milled around the embarkation room, waiting for the go-ahead. Rodney glanced up at the window, saw Landry speak into the microphone and knew contact had been established. A moment later, Landry announced that to the room at large and people started moving up the ramp, some carrying just their belongings, others pushing dollies with crates and containers of supplies for the city. 

Rodney knew at least one, maybe two, of those dollies contained the belongings he was taking to Atlantis with him, things that would fill his new quarters. He resettled his bag and, after a deep breath, started for the ramp. The metal rang under his footsteps, the sound familiar and yet not. Atlantis didn’t have a ramp. He was halfway to the ‘gate when he heard someone call his name from behind.

Suddenly terrified he was going to be told he couldn’t go, Rodney nevertheless turned. Sam Carter waved at him. “Hey, McKay, wait up a sec!”

He slid to the side, watching his step, and waited as Sam wove her way through the people and crates to his side. Before she could speak up, though, Rodney blurted out, “I’m going! I don’t care what anyone says, I’m going.”

Sam nodded rapidly. “I know, I know. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Then what?” Rodney was very much aware that the amount of people and containers was dwindling, along with his chances to go through.

Sam glanced cautiously around. Confused—why would Sam be cautious, here, in the SGC that loved her?—Rodney opened his mouth to ask her about it. Sam pulled him into a hug.

Startled, Rodney didn’t immediately hug her back. “What are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.

“Hug me back,” she ordered and he did so. He wrapped his arms around her, thoroughly at a loss as to what was happening. Then, her voice so quiet, Rodney wouldn’t have heard it if she weren’t talking directly into his ear, Sam said, “I don’t want anyone to overhear but I just found out and had to tell you. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is on its way out.”

Rodney stiffened. “Wha—”

“Don’t react!” He forced himself to relax back into the awkward hug as Sam continued, “Jack’s been trying to get this done for a while and the President has finally started the process. Landry doesn’t know, nor does he know about you and John. And we both know better than to give him any reason to pull John from Atlantis before the legislation’s been signed. So when you find Sheppard, tell him.” Sam kissed his cheek and stepped back, eyes bright. In a more normal tone of voice, she said, “Tell Sheppard hi from me and Jack, okay? And we’ll come visit once things are a little more settled in Washington.” She winked.

Rodney blinked several times then smiled. One more obstacle out of the way. John would be more inclined to start something if he knew he wouldn’t have to hide it or worry about them taking him out of Atlantis. “Thanks, Sam,” he said softly.

“Of course. Now go bring him home.”

* * *

_Present Day_

Rodney collapsed onto John’s bed, boots and all, closed his eyes and finally let himself sleep. He’d stayed at Teyla’s for dinner and it was then that his lack of sleep since he’d arrived started to catch up to him. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes when his radio beeped. He startled awake, only mildly surprised to find that he was still conditioned to listen for that particular sound.

He dragged it over his ear and mumbled, half into the pillow, “This is McKay. Talk.”

“Dr. McKay? It’s Marie. I need you to come to the infirmary. As soon as possible.”

Rodney had already started to untangle himself from the blankets as soon as he heard who it was. Then Marie added, “It’s John,” in _that_ tone.

Rodney’s heart froze. Oh god. Oh no. “On my way,” he forced out then flung the remaining covers aside—grateful his past self had been too tired to remove any article of clothing—and took off for the infirmary at a run. 

He had no idea what time it was as he dodged security patrols, used the nearest transporter, and minutes later practically fell through the infirmary door. A nurse let out a surprised squeak as Rodney appeared. 

“Dr. McKay?” another nurse asked in confusion.

He ignored them all and hurried into John’s room. “What hap—” Rodney cut himself off as the door slid shut behind him, his body barely in the room. 

It took a minute to process the scene before him. Two nurses were at John’s bed, appearing to hold him down, one practically lying across his legs as John tried to . . . Rodney wasn’t quite sure. He squinted. It looked like John was trying to fight them off? Why? What had happened? What had they done?

Granger appeared between the nurses, looking frustrated. “Dr. McKay, what are you doing in the ICU? I didn’t give permission for anyone not on my staff to come in here.”

Ignoring the question, Rodney strode to the bed, shoved a nurse aside and grabbed a hold of John’s flailing arm. “What the hell did you do to him?” he demanded of Granger.

She scowled, trying to get close enough to the IV port to inject something from a syringe in her hand but John wasn’t letting her. Rodney could tell that John was not aware of where he was. “The sedative wore off,” she answered briskly. “I wanted to check a couple of things before I gave him more and he just—”

Rodney shook his head in disgust. Had she never sedated a soldier before? How did he know more about that than a doctor? And if she’d been treating John for months, then she ought to know that John did not react well to drugs. 

Shoving those thoughts aside for now, Rodney turned his focus on John. He wasn’t flailing anymore, but lying on his back, turning his head to look from person to person. His panic and confusion shone clearly in his eyes as they also darted around. Sweat soaked his hairline and his breaths came in rapid bursts through his mouth. Rodney laced their fingers together then reached out with his other hand to grip John’s chin, trying to get John to look at him. “Sheppard. John, hey, it’s okay.”

John kept looking warily at Granger and the nurses. Thankfully, though, she seemed to be waiting to inject the syringe until Rodney had his complete attention.

“It’s Rodney,” he tried again, squeezing John’s hand. “Okay, John? It’s me, it’s okay. You’re okay. You just gotta relax and let the doctor do her thing, okay? You’re okay.”

That seemed to penetrate his mind and John blinked at him, his hazel eyes trying to focus on Rodney, his breathing slowing down a little. Still glazed from fever, the panic and confusion were fading from his face.

“That’s it,” Rodney reassured and released his grip on John’s chin to brush his damp hair back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger reach slowly to slide the syringe into the IV port.

“R’dn’y?” John mumbled. “ . . ‘s ‘at . . . you?”

Rodney squeezed his hand again and said softly, “Yeah, John, it’s me. I’m here, I’m right here. Just keep your eyes on me; everything’s gonna be okay.”

Granger stepped back, set the empty syringe on a tray. John’s eyes fluttered as the sedative started to kick in. The nurses both gave an audible sigh of relief as Rodney ran a hand through John’s hair again, not caring what anyone thought of the gesture. He owed Marie big time for alerting him. Out of anyone in Atlantis, Teyla would have been the only other person capable of calming John when he was like this. Rodney held his hand, combing his fingers through John’s hair, until the sedative took over and John fell asleep.

Then Rodney rounded on Granger with all the fury he couldn’t aim anywhere else. “What the hell were you thinking!”

Granger stiffened and the nurses backed away. “I was thinking, Doctor, that I was doing my job. What were you thinking, barging into my ICU?”

“Atlantis alerted me,” Rodney lied. “I have every right to be in here; ask anyone on staff from before. Do you have any idea what this man has gone through?” He scowled at her then at the nurses for good measure, pleased when the nurses quailed. “The last thing he remembers is being in a prison cell! After being tortured—as you no doubt noticed—he woke up from being drugged, unconscious, and now in a place he doesn’t remember going and surrounded by people he doesn’t recognize!”

Granger interjected, “I have been the colonel’s primary doctor for months—”

“He was _drugged_!” Rodney snapped. “Have you treated him? I’m sure he’s been unconscious before, been sedated for surgery—it’s Sheppard. There’s no way that hasn’t happened since Atlantis returned to Pegasus. So I’m _sure_ you know full well that Sheppard does not react well to drugs. You should have called me the _instant_ he started to come out of it.”

Granger’s eyes narrowed. “Dr. McKay, I am Chief Medical Officer on Atlantis and I have been so for nearly a year. I have seen some strange things; I have treated everything from minor cuts to near-fatal injuries. I will treat my patients as I see fit and I expect anyone residing in the city to follow my rules. I do not need some . . . some _astrophysicist_ who’s been here a couple of weeks to tell me how to do my job,” she shot back.

Rodney bristled, both at her tone and her words. Oh ho ho, this was going to be good. It was such a _relief_ to let his anxiety and worry and anger out on someone. He hadn’t had a good rant in months; students were “too fragile,” apparently, for him to be able to yell satisfactorily at them. “Well, Dr. Granger, let me educate you on a few things.”

The nurses shifted but didn’t move, probably so Rodney didn’t turn on them. He wondered if they recognized the tone and wanted to get out of the way but also didn’t want to draw his wrath.

Rodney drew a deep breath. “I am Dr. Rodney McKay. I have been a part of the Atlantis Expedition since its inception; I have known about the existence of the Stargate and other worlds since before you even knew it was possible. I was among the first group to walk through that ‘gate and pray that the city was here. I have known Colonel Sheppard for almost six years, have been Chief Science Officer and a member of the first response Gate Team, and have lived in this city for longer than you’ve known the place existed. I know more about Atlantis, Pegasus, and John Sheppard than you will ever know. So don’t lecture _me_ on how things work around here.”

Oh that felt good. Granger’s face was red, the nurses subtly stepping backwards, away from her and the splash zone. Now that he was paying attention, Rodney recognized them from when he’d lived here before. Good. Veterans. They’d know him; know he was telling the truth.

Rodney turned back to Granger and finished acidly, “Now that I hope you’re beginning to understand that I am not just _some astrophysicist_ , I’ll remind you that I also happen to be Sheppard’s emergency medical contact, which means that I get to say what kind of treatment he receives when he’s unable to. And you are not it. I’ll be staying with him until he can speak for himself and I’ll be choosing a different doctor to handle his care. Now get out, all of you.”

Granger was silent for a moment, studying him. Her cheeks were still red, with anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure. She finally said primly, “I know what an emergency medical contact means, Dr. McKay. If this is your decision, then I’ll put someone else in charge of the Colonel’s case.”

“That is my decision. You know what, is Biro still around? Put her in charge. And send Marie in. She knows Sheppard.”

Granger nodded stiffly then motioned for the nurses to precede her from the room.

Rodney hollered after them, “And somebody bring me a chair!” No way in hell was he leaving John alone with these idiots to try and mess up his healing but he also wasn’t going to stand or sit on the floor. He brushed a hand through John’s hair again and bent down to press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry, John,” he murmured against his forehead, “I’ll take care of everything. I’ll make sure you get the best possible care.”

The door opened a couple of minutes later, admitting two women. “Dr. McKay?”

He turned and smiled in relief. Marie and Dr. Biro approached, Marie carrying a fold-up chair. She grinned at him as she leaned it against the side of John’s bed and pulled him into a brief hug. “It’s good to see you!” Marie said brightly.

He chuckled. “Please, I know the infirmary hated having me around.”

Marie grinned again as Biro pulled John’s charts from the end of his bed and started flipping through them. “You were always entertaining. And besides, you and the Colonel balanced each other out.”

Rodney added, “By the way, I appreciate the call earlier.”

Her grin faded. “I told her to call you; that you’d want to be here when the Colonel awakened.”

“What is with her? Has she learned nothing from being here?” Rodney shook his head.

Marie shrugged. “She just doesn’t know you, doesn’t understand the connection you and the Colonel have.”

“Well, hopefully she’s a bit more enlightened now.”

Biro muttered, “Thought I heard you yelling.” She set the charts down on the bed and moved to stand on the other side of the bed from Rodney and Marie. “He didn’t reinjure himself, did he?”

Shit. That hadn’t even occurred to him. Rodney quickly turned and studied John, like he could see under the blanket and know. “I—I don’t know. Shouldn’t Granger have mentioned that?” Another mark against her in Rodney’s book.

Biro gave him a reassuring smile and tugged on a pair of latex gloves. “I’ll check. Since he’s unconscious, you don’t need to be here. Why don’t you go shower, change your clothes, and grab some breakfast while I do that?”

Rodney hesitated, his newfound resolve to stay at odds with the fact that he was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn on the mission. And he could really use some coffee. Then there was his hypoglycemia to think about . . .

Marie offered, “I’ll sit with him until you get back, Doctor.”

Biro was already lifting the blanket. “Shouldn’t take too long. And you of all people should know that Colonel Sheppard wouldn’t want you to neglect your own health, McKay.”

She was right. John would be upset if Rodney wound up in his own hospital bed from not taking care of himself. Rodney sighed. Damn it. “Fine,” he replied then pointed a warning finger at Marie. “You do not leave his side, you do not let that woman back in here, and you call me if anything changes.”

Marie solemnly promised, “I will watch over Colonel Sheppard until you return.”

Biro muttered, “For God’s sake, you’ll only be gone fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops.”

Rodney glared at her as Marie muffled a laugh. He couldn’t be too mad at them, though, not after all they’d been through as an Expedition. It was also why he didn’t mind them being there as he pressed his forehead to John’s, kissed his temple, and whispered, “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Until then, Marie’s going to be here.”

He straightened and reluctantly let go of John’s hand. Marie slid into his spot, unfolding the chair as he stepped back. Ten minutes. He’d take the fastest shower ever, grab food he could carry and a cup of coffee, then come right back. Rodney walked backwards out of the room, mentally adding grab his laptop to the list. He’d need a way to occupy his time and catching up on all the current projects going on in the labs would be a perfect way to do so.

* * *

John got worse before he got better, as these things tended to go. As things with Sheppard _always_ tended to go. The man just could not do anything the easy way! It was, maybe, one of the reasons Rodney fell so hard for him.

Maybe.

After taking the fastest shower of his life, Rodney dressed, grabbed breakfast and coffee to go then returned to the infirmary. He had then settled in for a long stint in the ICU, laptop on his lap and one hand holding John’s. Teyla and Ronon had come by a few times throughout the day to check on John while he slept the sedation off and see if Rodney needed anything. This time, though, when it eventually wore off, John did not wake up fighting. He didn’t really wake up, either, though. The first inklings Rodney had that something wasn’t right was John’s hand squeezing his briefly, repeatedly. Then the heart monitor started beeping faster. Rodney set his laptop on the bed and leaned forward, studying his friend.

John’s face was flushed and sweat was more visible. He panted lightly. Shit.

Rodney tapped his radio. “Marie, I need you in John’s room, now.”

The door whooshed open moments later and Marie rushed over to the bed. “What is it?”

“I—I don’t know. He was fine and then—then this and—” Rodney gestured helplessly. He didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know how to help.

Marie placed her hand on John’s forehead, tsked, then checked his pulse. She hit a few buttons on the machine then crossed to the door and called out something to one of the other nurses. When she came back, she caught Rodney’s worried gaze and said, “His fever’s spiked. Nothing to worry about. We’ll just get some antibiotics into his IV and it should come down in a day or two.”

The words were reassuring but her expression was not. Rodney got the very distinct impression that John’s rising fever was not a good sign. He bit his lower lip as he looked back down at John. 

The other nurse came in and handed Marie a syringe. She checked the level, squirted a little into the air, then injected it into John’s IV port. She patted John’s arm. “There we go,” Marie said. “He’ll be fine in no time.” She gave Rodney a quick smile then left with the nurse.

Rodney watched John, wishing there was something more he could do. He’d found him, brought him home, and yet could do nothing beyond that but sit here and watch helplessly as John fought to heal and wake up.

He’d forgotten how hard it was to watch someone he cared about lie unconscious in the infirmary.


	8. Chapter Eight

The next few days were hard on the team. John’s fever didn’t go away in a day or two, like Marie had hoped. It remained, stubbornly refusing to leave, and it brought delirium with it. John woke occasionally, but it was never for very long and he was never aware that he was in Atlantis. Sometimes he struggled, trying to get out of the bed. Other times he talked, giving Rodney brief insights into what he’d been subjected to.

It damn near broke his heart to hear a fevered John Sheppard beg for something to stop, his voice cracking in his delirium.

During the times John was sort of awake, Rodney held his hand, stroked his hair, and talked to him. Random things, mostly from his time on Earth—nothing about Jennifer, though—but it seemed to help. At least, Rodney preferred to think it helped. It assuaged a bit of his feelings of helplessness. He tried not to worry that the fever wasn’t going away but it was hard. Watching John beg, even a little, was painful and Rodney would happily have given anything to take the memories away, to comfort him. Unsure that the little he was doing was any help, Rodney told story after story to John about his attempts at teaching, about his so-called colleagues, about his attempts to live a normal life.

In between bouts of delirium, of the fever talking, Rodney soaked a cloth from a bowl of cold water he kept on a table nearby and would press it against John’s forehead, against his cheeks, and the little bit of his chest that was visible under the scrubs, trying to cool him off. Sometimes what John mumbled were nonsense things that were barely audible, occasionally punctuated by Rodney’s name.

It was like he knew Rodney was there . . . or he was back in his cell, thinking of Rodney. Rodney would brush a kiss against his forehead and reassure John that he was there. He fancied that John had known, on some level, even when hope seemed the faintest, that Rodney would come for him and he just had to hang on until then.

Because he would. Did. Rodney would _always_ come for John, just like John had and would always come for him. It was what they did, for nearly six years, and Rodney was just now realizing that they’d been saying _I love you_ in silent ways like that for years and how had he never noticed that before?

As soon as John was conscious enough to realize where he was, Rodney was going to tell him. They’d lost so much time already. He’d never loved somebody so much but he’d also never been so afraid to lose someone this much. Yes, he’d been afraid of losing John for years but now? When they had the chance to be so much more together? “Come back to me,” Rodney would whisper whenever the thought came to him. He kissed John’s forehead. “Please, John, just come back to me.”

* * *

Ronon and Teyla visited Rodney and John several times throughout those first few tension-filled days after they brought John home. 

While Rodney watched over John, their friends watched over both of them. Ronon actually threatened to toss Rodney over his shoulder and carry him out of the room on the third day before Rodney finally caved and agreed to go shower, eat something substantial, and get a few hours’ sleep in an actual bed. Teyla volunteered to stay with John because Rodney didn’t want to leave him alone. He had this irrational fear that John would take a turn for the worse or that damn doctor, Granger, would sneak in and do something.

As Ronon and Rodney headed out, Rodney glanced back and saw Teyla settling into Rodney’s chair, her slim fingers carding through John’s hair. The lilt of an Athosian song trailed after them until the door closed.

It reminded Rodney that he wasn’t the only one who cared about John. But it warmed him to know that there were people here who cared about him. _Too much time away_ , he decided as he headed back to John’s quarters for a shower.

* * *

The fever broke late one night, John finally— _finally_ —settling into a peaceful sleep. Relief and hope filled the air when Rodney shared the news with Teyla and Ronon. Even Atlantis’ lights seemed to brighten briefly and Rodney knew, then, that John would be okay.

* * *

Rodney was in the middle of redoing an entire experiment because the scientist—some new person Rodney didn’t remember the name of—had input completely wrong information into their calculations and the results were, of course, inconclusive, when it happened.

John’s fingers squeezed his. After everything that had happened that week, Rodney instantly looked up to check on John.

John’s hazel eyes were open and they were focused on him. Seeing his gaze clear—for the first time in _days_ —caused Rodney’s throat to tighten. Eyes burning, Rodney slowly closed the laptop lid and set the computer aside.

“Hey,” John said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“He—” Rodney had to stop and clear his throat, blinking a few times, before he could try again. “Hey. You’re awake.”

“Ye—yeah.” John licked his lips, coughing slightly. Rodney reached over and grabbed a cup of water, held the straw up to John’s mouth for him to drink. Not once did John’s eyes leave his face, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real, either. When John indicated he was finished, Rodney put the cup back down. “You’re here.”

Rodney squeezed his hand and tried a smile but was afraid it shook too much. “Yeah. I’m—I’m here. It’s good to see you. I, um—I missed you.”

John yawned, reached up to rub his eyes with the hand not currently gripping Rodney’s. His grip was weak but that was fine with Rodney. He was just so damn relieved John was awake, and aware. “Misse’ you, too,” John mumbled. “’s good t’ . . . see you.”

Rodney cleared his throat again. “Well,” he said in as light a tone as he could manage, “I couldn’t exactly leave your rescue in the hands of some SGC idiots, now could I?”

John gave him a faint smile. “Alw’ys . . . got m’ back . . . hmm?”

“Always.” Okay, Rodney thought, if they kept going like this, he was going to cry. He needed to lighten the mood a bit. “So, uh, you know, if you wanted to see me, there are easier ways.”

John’s brow furrowed, confusion in his eyes.

Rodney clarified, “An email would have sufficed, Sheppard. But no, no you had to do things the hard way. You know I had to come save your sorry ass from another galaxy? Another _galaxy_ , Sheppard! Always the difficult one.”

John laughed and winced, putting a hand on his side. “Ow. ‘m not the . . . the dif’cult one. ‘hat’s you.”

“Shit, are you okay? Because I can go get Marie or—” Rodney half-rose from his seat, all joking set aside at the idea that John was in pain.

John shook his head, yawning again. His eyes slid shut for a moment then he yanked them open. “Nah . . ‘m ‘kay. Jus’ no . . laughin’.”

“Right. No laughing. Got it.” Rodney watched him for a minute then said softly, “It’s damn good to see you, John.”

John’s eyes found his, expression unreadable even now. He didn’t return the sentiment, didn’t say anything, really, beyond simply asking, “You stayin’?”

Multiple meanings came with those two seemingly simple words. Staying in Atlantis? Staying at his bedside? Staying with John? Yes, to everything. “Yeah,” Rodney nodded. “Yeah, John, I’m—I’m staying.”

“Good,” John mumbled as his eyes slid shut again, losing the battle against the sleep that tugged at him.

Rodney stroked his thumb over the back of John’s hand and watched him sleep. He was going to be okay. They could talk later, when John felt better. Right now . . . right now, this was all Rodney needed.

* * *

Voices drew him from the welcome oblivion of deep sleep.

Whatever was going on, he immediately realized that it wasn’t the usual conversation he’d gotten used to. It wasn’t in hushed whispers, folks just trying to make a connection in the dark, a connection that was entirely human. They’d all long ago given up hope but John still hadn’t. He knew his people wouldn’t give up. 

But the speakers also clearly weren’t those evil Asgard bastards behind the whole thing.

All of which begged the question of who were they?

The voices rang a bell in his mind, a familiar chord, so John reluctantly dragged his eyes open.

Light. 

Warm, welcoming, _beautiful_ light greeted him. And warmth. He hadn’t felt warmth or seen light like that in so long . . . This must be—it had to be—Atlantis. _Home_. Finally. They’d found him, rescued him. John closed his eyes again at the realization. It overwhelmed him momentarily but then the voices drew his attention once again. This time, he could understand what they were saying.

“ . . . of you must learn to co-exist!” a woman was saying in a fierce but soft voice.

“I will when she learns a thing or two!” a man returned, angry.

John lowered his gaze from the Lantean ceiling—god, it was so beautiful—to the speakers. The woman was facing him and John recognized that dark brown hair and chocolate skin immediately. He didn’t immediately recognize the man she spoke to, though. He had his back to John and it stiffened when John spoke in a voice that sounded like a frog’s. “Teyla?”

Teyla—for it was she—frowned at the man then hurried over to him. When she looked down at him in concern, it occurred to him that he was lying down. Then, of course, he realized that meant that he had to be in the infirmary. “I am so sorry, John. Did we wake you?”

John started to shake his head, to tell her she hadn’t, but his attention had been captured by the man she’d been talking to. He had just turned around and John now saw, with a skip of his heart, that it was Rodney.

Rodney was here. How? When?

Why?

Teyla noticed his attention had drifted and her concern shifted seamlessly into a smile as she gestured for Rodney to come over. There was something hesitant about Rodney’s approach which struck John as wrong. “Hey,” John said. What did he say? It was like anything beyond that one word was stuck in his throat but nor could he tear his gaze away. Seeing Rodney, here, after so long . . . it was like he’d imagined. Like he’d hoped. 

“Hey,” Rodney replied. He laid a hand on the bed, close to John’s hand but not touching. “How are you feeling? Do you—do you need anything?”

Rodney was _here_ , not on Earth. It just seemed too good to be true. “I’m—I’m good,” John answered after he was sure he could speak. “What were you two arguing about?”

Rodney immediately looked sheepish. Teyla threw him a disapproving frown but was all sympathy and assurances when she turned back to John. “The usual arguments that Rodney has with the Atlantis medical staff.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, well,” Teyla’s voice filled with that note that always made them squirm, “Rodney and I have had words before yet he refuses to let it go.”

“She has no business practicing medicine here if she can’t follow a simple request,” Rodney interjected and John couldn’t help but smile a little. It was just so Rodney. “She shouldn’t be practicing anywhere, in my opinion.”

“And yet, Mr. Woolsey approved her appointment,” Teyla responded.

Rodney waved a hand in the air dismissively then turned his attention back to John. 

“We should let the doctors know John is awake,” Teyla said then, smiling happily at him. “And I will let the others know. Everyone will be happy to hear the news.”

“Yeah, right. Um, do you mind doing that? And not, you know, _her_ ,” Rodney asked.

“Yes, Rodney. I will send Dr. Biro in on my way out.” Teyla wasn’t one to roll her eyes but her tone did it, anyway. “It does my heart good to have the two of you back home.”

As she left, John asked Rodney, “The _two_ of us back home? Wait, she’s getting Biro? Not Granger? Is Granger okay?”

Moving into her vacated spot, Rodney replied, “Yeah.” He frowned at John. “Wait, you thought I was going to let that woman take care of you?”

“She’s head of the department, McKay.”

“So? She has no clue what she’s doing and she refuses to listen to me.”

John rolled his eyes—arguing with Rodney was so _achingly_ familiar, he’d missed it so much—and repeated, “Head. Of. The. Department.”

Rodney scoffed, “Please. Like I’d let that woman anywhere near you. And here I thought Carson was the voodoo practitioner. He looks like a saint compared to her.”

John felt like he ought to defend the doc more—she’d done good work since she came on board—but he was just too damn happy to see Rodney. It had been so long, he’d actually forgotten how handsome his best friend was. It put his fantasies to shame, seeing those brilliant blue eyes again, the expressive hands, and his face that John could always read like an open book.

Rodney’s fingers twitched where they rested on the blanket, like he wanted to reach for John’s hand but didn’t dare. John found himself wanting Rodney to reach out, to touch him, because then maybe he might accept that this was actually happening.

He’d dreamed of rescue so often during those first days. 

So many scenarios had run through his head those first few days, of planning his escape, of Lorne leading the rescue, of fighting off the bastards who’d taken him and leading a mass evac of the prisoners. Of Rodney finding him and realizing he had feelings for John; of a kiss in the heat of the moment of reconnection. Fantasies, all of them, but they kept him sane. Kept him going as the days blended together and he lost track of all time. As the pain became too much and he spent more time asleep or unconscious just to keep from breaking completely. John had tried so hard to hold onto that sliver of hope that, someday, someone would come for him. As his thoughts turned to that time, the memories started to flood back. He tried to stem them, tried to lock that mental door but he couldn’t. Rodney’s face swam in front of him and he couldn’t catch his breath.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. John, you’re okay.”

A hand cupped his face, brushed his hair back. John blinked against his suddenly blurry vision, felt something wet slide down his cheeks. Lips pressed against his forehead and Rodney murmured, “You’re safe, John. You’re home.”

Home. Right. He was in the infirmary, in Atlantis, and his friends were here. John reached up and took hold of Rodney’s hand, held on tight to that link to reality. “You’re here,” he said faintly.

“I’m here, I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere,” Rodney murmured. “I told you, I’m staying.”

John squeezed his hand, closing his eyes against the burn of tears. Rodney carded his fingers through John’s hair, murmured, “It’s okay, John. I’m here.”

The contact gave John that tether, that reminder that his memories of that cell were just that. Memories. He was free of that place and Rodney was here in Atlantis with him. Nothing else mattered. They stayed like that for a long moment and then John took a shaky breath, swallowing back the tears and the memories. He managed to get the mental door to swing shut after a few minutes and opened his eyes. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Rodney’s eyes were wet, too, and his smile shook.

John reached up with his other hand and wiped away a tear glistening on Rodney’s cheek. “How long are you staying?” He needed to know how long he had to build up fresh memories with Rodney.

Rodney’s thumb stroked the back of his hand. “Forever.”

John blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Rodney said with a smile. “I’m back, John. Back for good. And just so you know, I’m kicking Zelenka off your team; I want my spot back.”

“You—” John laughed faintly. Rodney back on the team, back in his life. “He’ll be thrilled.”

“I know.” Rodney bit his lip. “Are you?”

“Definitely. The spot’s always been yours.” John could not be more thrilled. “Zelenka’s good, but he’s not you.” John hesitated then, wondering if he should ask if Keller came with him, but wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear the answer to that. “Rodney, I—”

The door slid open at that point, interrupting their conversation. John had a moment of frustration as Rodney pulled away but didn’t let go of John’s hand. John wasn’t letting go of him, either, not for a second.

Dr. Biro greeted them, “Good afternoon, Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay.” She smiled at him while she pulled his chart off the end of the bed. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, doc,” John replied honestly. He flicked his gaze towards Rodney as Marie took his cup of water away and started taking his vitals. So many things left unsaid. But they had time, now, if Rodney was serious about staying and rejoining the ‘gate team.

Marie told him, “Everyone’s been worried sick about you, Colonel. Dr. McKay actually refused to leave your bedside the entire time.”

“Really?” John raised an eyebrow at Rodney whose face turned pink. Interesting. And . . . . he did have faint memories of Rodney’s voice in his ear, telling him it’ll all be okay. Half to himself, John murmured, “Kinda thought I dreamed that.”

“You dreamed of me?” Rodney asked quietly.

John started, feeling his face heat as he realized he’d said that out loud. And then remembered they weren’t alone. “Ah, well, uh,” he said, avoiding Rodney’s gaze.

Marie laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the two of you so red before.”

Rodney had turned red, too? He looked up and there was . . . something in his friend’s expression. John swallowed hard and attempted a brief explanation. “I remember you talking to me. Telling me that, you know, things were gonna be okay. I really thought that was all in my head.”

“That I wasn’t really here and you were dreaming,” Rodney finished.

“. . . yeah.”

Rodney ducked his head, face turning pink again. “Talking seemed to help you. Calm you when you were having a nightmare. It made me feel better, like I was doing something to help you other than sit here and watch you sleep.”

“Oh.” John’s throat tightened and he squeezed Rodney’s hand briefly. “Well, then, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Rodney’s eyes seemed to catch and hold his, and John thought he might be leaning in. With a flip of his stomach, John found himself hoping that this was why Rodney had come back, that something could finally happen between them.

The clatter of medical instruments on a tray startled them both. Rodney’s face instantly went beet red and he straightened with a jolt.

_Almost_. They’d almost kissed, he was sure of it. Which surely meant Keller was finally out of the picture? John cleared his throat. “So, doc, how’m I doing?”

Marie grinned at them both and then she and Biro got to work. By the time his check-up had finished, John was tired, his body still drained from his imprisonment and the healing process. Rodney’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand lulled him the rest of the way from drowsiness into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John's awake! Yay! Right?


	9. Chapter Nine

When John woke up later, Rodney wasn’t alone in the room with him. Not med staff this time, but the team. The whole team. Ronon and Teyla had come by and were talking quietly with Rodney when John woke up. Their relief and joy at seeing him was matched only by the happiness filling John’s chest at the sight of all of them back together again.

It was like the universe had finally righted itself.

Whatever had been said or not said, Rodney seemed to have no problems reaching out this time and John had no problem hiding anything from Ronon and Teyla so their hands remained entwined the entire time. They were really going to have to talk about things but for right now, John just enjoyed the fact that he was home. That Rodney was home with him.

Ronon and Rodney got him up to date on the details of his rescue, making his chest ache with laughter as Ronon reiterated some of Rodney’s best insults since he set foot in the city again. Ronon teased him about the beard. Teyla rolled her eyes without physically rolling her eyes—he still didn’t know how she did it. Rodney spluttered. It was just like old times.

It was perfect.

No one asked him to talk about what he’d gone through, and he was grateful. Grateful that they knew him well enough to wait until he was ready, grateful that they knew enough not to push.

* * *

_Eight months ago_

It was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make, even harder than the decision to go through the ‘gate to Atlantis the first time. This time, he had things—people—to leave behind, to say goodbye to. He hadn’t had that last time, just a hope of what he’d find on the other side. There was hope on the other side of this decision, too.

Which made it infinitely harder.

When Jennifer first informed him that she was going to stay on Earth, no matter what the IOA finally decided, Rodney had thought she was just speaking hypothetically. Then it came through that they had a go, that O’Neill had pushed it through and Atlantis was going back. 

Woolsey actually threw a party, Ronon and Teyla were relieved to be going home, Sheppard was damn near ecstatic. Rodney and Zelenka started making lists of what they’d need, who they wanted to keep . . . what needed to be fixed. 

Then Jennifer brought it up again, when Rodney asked her if she needed help with inventory. He stared at her in shock that she would actually consider leaving. That Earth could hold a candle to Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy.

She remained firm, though, and then dropped another bomb on him: she asked what he was going to do.

Rodney struggled to process the question because of course, _of course_ , he was staying! What other option was there? But then . . . _then_ it occurred to him that if his girlfriend was leaving the city, shouldn’t he go with her? That was what he should do, right? But Atlantis was home. His team, his friends, his family, were all here. And they were all going to Pegasus.

With the exception of his girlfriend.

Jennifer had given him a soft smile when he didn’t immediately answer. She’d told him, _I know what this place means to you, Rodney, so the decision is completely up to you. Earth or Atlantis. Whatever you decide, I’ll understand. But I need to do what’s right for me, and that means staying here, on Earth._

She’d left it at that, hadn’t asked him again, but Rodney agonized over the decision for days, weeks, going back and forth. He even asked for advice on what to do!

Zelenka, of course, the Czech bastard, refused to be helpful. He said he’d be happy to see Rodney leave but also that Atlantis would miss him. Way to be an ass.

Sheppard was even less helpful, if that was possible. He refused to offer any concrete advice beyond shrugging with some lazy _do what your heart says_ and other bullshit like that then disappeared on some pretext that Lorne needed him for something.

In hindsight, that really should have told him something then.

Teyla told him to make his decision based on what he wanted, not what others wanted him to do.

Ronon suggested Rodney basically make a list of pros and cons of each choice.

He even asked Sam her opinion when she stopped by with a delivery. She told him to make a choice and he would know in his heart if it was right once he did.

Hearts were notoriously fickle, and impossible to know right from wrong, so in the end, Rodney did make a choice.

He just hoped it was the right one. 

* * *

_Present Day_

“They’re so thin-skinned, you’d think I actually stabbed them instead of just insulted their intelligence,” Rodney said, shaking his head as he explained to John why he was not cut out to be a teacher.

John was grinning. “McKay, I’m honestly surprised they hired you. And to teach undergrads? You’re lucky you weren’t fired for damaging someone’s psyche.”

“Hey!” Rodney scowled. “I can teach! It’s not my fault if their egos are so fragile. To think I actually started to miss Kavanaugh.”

John laughed and winced. Despite the pain meds they had him on, Biro didn’t want him to avoid pain completely. Said it was a good indicator on how he was doing. Rodney disagreed but she wouldn’t listen to him. “Must have been pretty bad, to miss that asshole.”

Rodney shrugged. “At least he sort of knew what he was doing. And he wasn’t the only thing I started missing.”

And there it was again, the topic they kept dancing around for the past few days. 

John licked his lips. “So, uh . . . so what finally made you decide to come back?”

“I wasn’t happy on Earth. How could I be, when everything and everyone I cared about was here? Well, with the exception of Jeannie, I suppose.”

“So . . . Keller came back with you, then? I figured I’d have seen her by now or is she trying to figure out who’s going to be CMO between her and Granger?” 

“No, Granger’s remaining CMO, unfortunately.” Rodney made a face. He really did not like her. As soon as he could, he was hunting down Carson and dragging his Scottish ass back here to be John’s doctor again. “As for Jennifer, well . . . she stayed on Earth.”

John said slowly, “So . . . you’re trying the long-distance thing, then?”

“No. No long-distance thing.” He laughed a little. “It turns out Jennifer and I don’t really work as a couple when one of us is actually in love with someone else.”

John suddenly wouldn’t meet his eyes, fidgeting with the edge of his blanket. Rodney frowned. That was very unlike John. He didn’t fidget. Okay. Guess it was time to talk about it. He drew a breath and said firmly, “John.”

Then he waited for his friend to look up. It took a moment but when John finally met Rodney’s gaze, his expression was guarded. Like he was bracing himself for bad news.

Rodney leaned forward, grabbed John’s hand, and said slowly and firmly so that that there would be no misunderstanding, “I’m not with Jennifer anymore. Haven’t been for a while. It just took me a long time to realize it. To realize that we weren’t working and then to figure out why. Actually, it took talking with my sister to help me figure things out. She saw what I’d been unconsciously training myself not to notice.”

John frowned at him. “Which would be . . . ?”

“That I wasn’t really in love with her, anyway. That I was using her to try to get over the fact that I had been in love with someone else for years. Someone who I thought would never return my feelings.”

“Someone . . . else?” John had gone still, his eyes bright where they fixed on Rodney’s. “Does this someone know?”

Okay, so John was going to be difficult. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. John made everything to do with feelings and relationships difficult. Rodney studied John’s reactions closely as he replied, “I haven’t really said anything to him yet. He’s been going through a rough time and, besides, I don’t really know for sure how he feels. If he wants a relationship.”

“He.” John licked his lips again. “So this—this person. He’s in Atlantis? Is he why you came back?”

Ah ha, now they were getting somewhere. Talking around the subject was what they did best. Well, what John did best, anyway. What Rodney did best was blunder into conversations and awkwardly blurt out truths. Which was actually helpful in this particular conversation. “Yes, he is. He never really left, actually. So yes. I came back for him. Took a little longer than I expected since he decided to get himself into trouble and needed me to rescue him.”

John swallowed and shifted slightly on the hospital bed, his face a little pink. “Upending your entire life for this guy. You must be fairly confident he’ll return your feelings.”

“I am. I may have missed some things over the years, but I see them now. He’s never come right out and said anything before, and I understand why. Now, though, there’s only one thing I can think of that would hold him back from admitting he has feelings for me, too.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, before, I’d have said he didn’t want to lose Atlantis because of some stupid backwards rule his military had. But now . . . well, I’d imagine he’s scared,” Rodney said, still watching John closely and wondering when they were going to stop pretending they weren’t talking about each other. About him. “Scared that admitting his feelings might change something irreversibly. I mean, I assume. I don’t presume to be able to read his mind but I think I know him well enough.”

“Isn’t his military still a problem?” John asked.

“Not for much longer. A little yellow birdie told me that a certain American military policy that would be detrimental to any kind of relationship like ours is on its way out, very soon.” Rodney raised an eyebrow pointedly and laced their fingers together.

John didn’t respond to that and Rodney saw his jaw tighten. What was he thinking? Rodney wondered. They’d been friends for so long, dancing around this thing between them for years, what if John was still too afraid to make a move? 

He didn't think Rodney would come back here and put John at risk of being yanked back to Earth or anything, did he?

Or—

Wait, what if John just needed _him_ to make the first move?

Well, that he could do.

Rodney let go of John’s hand and placed it on the pillow next to John’s head, bracing himself as he leaned forward. John’s eyes went wide. Rodney said, “It’s you, you idiot. I’m in love with you, John Sheppard.”

And with that admission, Rodney pressed his mouth to John’s. For a scary moment, nothing happened and he was terrified he’d gotten everything terribly, terribly wrong. Then John’s lips parted and he sighed into Rodney’s mouth. Rodney pressed closer, sweeping his tongue inside. John reached a hand up to the back of Rodney’s head, holding him in place.

They kissed for a long time, until Rodney finally lifted his head and saw John’s reddened lips. “So,” he said, his voice husky, “I’d say I was right, wouldn’t you?”

John laughed hoarsely and tugged Rodney down into another kiss.

* * *

“Admit it, you missed me.”

John rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I missed you, McKay. Like a thorn in my side I can’t get rid of.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Rodney replied, deadpan. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” John shifted on the bed. His injuries were still healing and he was having difficulty finding a comfortable position. Rodney pressed a kiss to his temple and tugged him a little closer, an arm around John’s shoulders. John was half on his side on the mattress, half lying on Rodney’s chest, their intertwined hands resting on Rodney’s chest. John added, in a softer tone, “I did miss you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” Rodney asked. “All these months, all those emails . . . not once did you ever say or indicate that you missed me at all.”

“I couldn’t. You know all correspondence gets screened by the SGC.”

“I don’t think Landry would have cared if you mentioned missing your best friend.”

John sighed. “It was more than that. It was hard enough having to fill the hole you left in the team and the department. Zelenka’s tried but it’s just not the same. Actually putting it in writing, admitting it out loud . . . .” He shrugged. “It made it too real, something I’d have to acknowledge and it was . . . easier to just –pretend you were visiting Earth instead of living there.”

“You are so emotionally constipated,” Rodney sighed and started rubbing circles on his back. It felt nice.

They fell silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the ability to be this close. Getting a few minutes to themselves was a rare thing, especially when one of them was in the infirmary and subject to regular visits by the med staff. After a while, John’s eyes started to drift shut. He was nearly asleep when he remembered something else he wanted to ask. “Hey,” he said, tipping his head back to see Rodney’s face.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to the other survivors?”

Rodney went still. John felt it, which made no sense given the question. Unless some of them didn’t make it and Rodney wanted to spare him the knowledge of that. “S—survivors?”

“Yeah. On that ship I was on. Is Granger treating the others?”

Rodney wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Um . . .”

John’s heart sank and he moved enough to get a better angle, wincing slightly. “Rodney? Didn’t any of the other prisoners make it out?”

“A—about that, John, um. So during—during the rescue, um, well it wasn’t really up to me and Lorne said—”

John sat up fully, ignoring the pull of his stitches, and put his face in his hands. “No one else survived?” he asked faintly. His mind went back to his cell, to the people he’d tried to help. All those people . . . All the cells he remembered passing . . . . _no one?_

Rodney’s hand was on his back again, rubbing up and down. “That’s not—I mean, well, yes, there were a—a few who were still, you know, _alive_ when we found you but—”

“But what?” John asked, lowering his hands to turn and look at him. Rodney looked stricken. “What happened to them? Were they too badly injured for us to make a difference?”

Rodney licked his lips and John felt his heart sink further. He started shaking his head even before Rodney started to talk, somehow knowing what he was going to say before he spoke. “John, I’m sor—”

“No. No, tell me you didn’t—didn’t _leave_ them there.” His voice cracked.

“We had to,” Rodney said weakly. 

_No._ John couldn’t breathe. 

“John, it was you we were there for. You, we had to bring home.”

“They needed to be brought home, too,” John rasped, voice harsh with emotion. He was seeing the bodies of his cellmates, struggling to stay in the here and now as the mental door fought to open wide. He shook his head again. How could they have left anyone behind? His breaths came harsh and fast, the heart monitor beeping rapidly in the background. “We need to go back. We need to—to bring them home.”

“We’re working on it. Teyla said that. . .” Rodney paused then kept going, “Teyla wanted to bring them along when we rescued you but Lorne said we didn’t—we couldn’t. And Ronon . . . a—and I agreed. You were the priority.”

“You _left_ them!” A sob ripped its way out of him, his voice cracking, and the tears came unbidden in his eyes, in his voice . . . flowing down his face. All he could see was that cell, watching as the Vanir took people away and returned them weaker and weaker. They were still there, still trapped. Why? Why did he get to go home and they didn’t?

“I know.” Rodney wrapped his arms around John and pulled him against his chest. John’s shoulders shook and he closed his eyes. “I know,” Rodney murmured against his hair, rocking him. “And Zelenka and I—we’re working on it. But tracking them, it’s—it was hard enough to find you. But we’re working on it. We’ll find them, John, we’ll find them and we’ll bring them home. I promise.”

John let Rodney hold him, let Rodney’s warmth and presence calm him. When he could speak without his voice shaking, John told him, “I want to go. When you find the ship . . . I want to go. I _need_ to go.”

Rodney kissed his temple. “We’ll go. And we won’t leave anyone behind this time.”

_No one left behind_. John nodded, feeling Rodney’s shirt rub against his damp cheek. He took a slow, deep breath, wiped his face and promised himself that no matter the condition, he was getting every last prisoner out of that damned ship.

Rodney got them resettled on the small hospital bed, his arms wrapped securely around John. “I’m sorry,” Rodney said softly. “We— _I_ should have told you.”

John replied, “I’d like to agree, but we both know it wouldn’t have helped my recovery any to know before.” He would have been devastated—he _was_ devastated—but it would have set him back. He hadn’t been emotionally ready to know, before. It would have wrecked him, maybe made him not want to heal, to get better. He wasn’t altogether certain he was now, though he had Rodney to help him through it.

“Teyla said you’d have wanted to take them with us. And we knew she was right but there—there wasn’t time and—and you were . . .” Rodney’s voice trailed off.

“The priority, I know.”

“And we didn’t know how badly you were hurt or—are you mad at me?”

“For not telling me or for not rescuing anyone else?”

“Both.”

John blew out his breath and pressed his lips to Rodney’s jawbone—the highest part he could reach. “No,” he finally answered. “I’m not mad, I’m just—there’s a lot I have to—to deal with. What they did to me, physically, will be the easiest. But the rest . . .”

“John, what—what _did_ they do to you?” Rodney’s voice was quiet, hesitant.

John closed his eyes, pressed his face against Rodney’s chest, his throat tight.

Rodney quickly said, “You—you don’t have to.” He paused briefly before continuing, in a quieter voice, “I—I know it was painful, what happened, and horrible, and you don’t—you don’t, like, _owe_ me anything. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I guess I’m just saying . . . I’m here if you want to talk.”

John smiled faintly. Everyone always said Rodney had no people skills but he had proven multiple times that he was far more perceptive and sensitive than they gave him credit for. “I don’t think I’m ready to face it quite yet, let alone talk about it. But when I do—”

“I’ll be here,” Rodney promised, punctuating it with a kiss to John’s forehead.

“I know.” He didn’t have to tell him everything but . . . but maybe a little bit of it? John took a slightly unsteady breath and said, “Let’s just say the Vanir were looking for something and their methods weren’t exactly the nicest. Surviving what they did to me, knowing some of the others the Vanir experimented on were probably already dead by the time you found me . . . getting out while they remained behind? It’s hard.”

“It’ll be hard for a while but you’re not alone. Ronon, Teyla, me . . . we’ll be there for you.”

John sniffled, feeling the threat of tears. God, not again. “I have to go when you find them, Rodney. I can’t—I can’t leave them there. Dead or alive, they deserve to go home.”

“They will. And, for the record, none of us liked having to leave anyone behind.”

“I understand Lorne’s call to take me—and only me—and get out. It was a hard decision to make and I don’t envy him. Doesn’t mean I like it, though.”

“Zelenka’s been working on tracking the ship. I’ve had him on it since you went into surgery so unless he’s been slacking, we should have something in the next couple of days,” Rodney said.

“Good.” John yawned and his eyes slid shut. 

“You get better first,” Rodney said, “then we’ll go after the others.”

“Deal.” John silently made a promise to himself to make sure every single human being the Vanir had taken found their way off that ship, whether it was to their home planets or a burial somewhere. They deserved that much.


	10. Chapter Ten

The vastness of space never failed to amaze him, every time he got the chance to glimpse even a little bit of it from the window of a spaceship. And the amazement was there, only this time it was tempered by the fact that he was staring not just at the stars but at the place where he’d recently been imprisoned with little hope of escape. For some reason, he just couldn’t muster up his usual feelings of awe when the memories of what he’d been through lingered on the edges.

The Vanir ship floated before them and it held John’s entire attention from where he stood on the bridge of the _Daedalus_. Zelenka had come through and three days after John’s talk with Rodney, a mission was being organized. The _Daedalus_ had arrived the next day which greatly increased their chances of success. He couldn’t see the ‘jumpers loaded with Atlantis and _Daedalus_ soldiers but he knew they were on their way, knew that Rodney’s hack had opened the doors for them.

Rodney. John smiled faintly. It was thanks to Rodney that he was here at all. John’s initial request had been shot down instantly. But Rodney hadn’t accepted it, wouldn’t let John accept it. He’d fought for John’s presence on this mission, argued with Caldwell, with Woolsey, with Biro. He may not have fully understood John’s need to be here, but he’d supported it and that meant a hell of a lot. They’d finally agreed to let him come but only if he remained on the _Daedalus_ until Lorne radioed it was clear. Then he could go over.

“Hey,” Rodney said quietly, coming up next to him. His hand skimmed across John’s lower back, brushed the back of John’s hand before returning to his side. “It’ll be some time before we can head over. You should sit, conserve your strength.”

“I’m good.”

He sighed. “John. Come on, sit with me.” Rodney wrapped a hand around his elbow, gently tugging. John went reluctantly, sitting along the far wall but still able to look outside. Rodney sat next to him, close enough their thighs touched. “They’ll let us know when it’s safe to come over.”

They couldn’t get away with much, not with Caldwell watching, but they took full advantage of the fact that John tired easily and he leaned against Rodney now. He wondered what was happening over there, if Lorne was encountering resistance . . . how many of the prisoners would make it.

Wondering what had happened over there after he’d left.

“Do you think they hurt them, when you got me out?” John asked quietly after a few minutes. It was something that had been in the back of his mind for a couple of days now, after finding out he was the only one to be rescued. He knew the Vanir had liked to work on him more than the others, probably because he had the gene. 

Rodney started, not expecting the question. “Hurt—hurt the other prisoners?” When John nodded, he hummed thoughtfully. “Um, well, I—I really don’t know. I mean, we don’t entirely understand the Asgard we’ve met in the Milky Way but I don’t think they’d take revenge like that. Not like other humans would.”

“But these aren’t the Milky Way Asgard,” John pointed out. “And we know they’re not above doing their own dirty work.”

“True.”

“So they would.” 

“I don’t know that, not for sure. I can only speculate based on my brief experience with them.”

“But you think they did.”

Rodney didn’t answer right away and when he did, his voice was quiet. “I think they realized their time was running short and stepped up the experiments.”

John’s throat tightened. “How many of them have died because I wasn’t there?”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare blame yourself for what those psychos do, John Sheppard,” Rodney said harshly.

John started, twisting to look at him in surprise. “McKay—”

“No.” Rodney shook his head. “No, I know you and I know that’s what’s going through your head and you’re _wrong_. You blame yourself for too much on a good day, but this—what’s going on in that ship? It is not your fault so don’t you _dare_ blame yourself for something so out of your control.”

John wished he could kiss Rodney right now. Rodney’s conviction, his absolute certainty, did what John couldn’t: it lifted the weight enough for him to breathe a little easier. But there were too many potential witnesses so he went back to leaning against Rodney, more than before. “Thanks,” John said very quietly, though those weren’t the words he wanted to say.

Rodney got it, though, as John had known he would, and looped an arm around his waist. To keep him from falling, of course, if anyone asked.

* * *

“Hey, come on, sleepyhead, time to wake up.” Rodney shook John slightly to wake him. He’d dozed off as they waited for Lorne’s all-clear. It was good, he needed the sleep. In all honesty, he really shouldn’t be out of the infirmary but Rodney had seen the need in John’s eyes and he couldn’t deny him this.

John blinked blearily and rubbed his eyes. “’sup?” he asked, wincing as he sat up, lifting his head off Rodney’s shoulder.

“Lorne just checked in,” Rodney told him.

“Right. Okay.” John wet his lips and went to push himself to his feet. Rodney stood and offered his hand. After a second, John took it, letting Rodney help him up. He winced and swayed a little, likely stiff from sitting and refusing to acknowledge he was in pain. Stubborn as always. “Let’s go, want to get a good seat.”

Rodney took one look at his lover and knew he was hurting, in more ways than one. He fumbled in his pockets, pulling out the little bottle Biro had given him before they left Atlantis. “John,” he said.

John glanced over, hand pressed against his side. He really shouldn’t be out of bed, but if he had to then Rodney was damn well going to make sure he didn’t overextend himself. Rodney lifted the bottle so he could see it. Predictably, John refused.

He shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

“You’re pale and don’t think I didn’t see that wince when you stood.”

“Rodney, I don’t need—”

“You’re taking the pain reliever or I tell Caldwell we’re staying here.” Rodney crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Your choice.”

John scowled at him then sighed. Giving in, he held out his hand and Rodney uncapped the bottle, shaking two little white pills into his hand. John tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry as Rodney tucked the bottle back into his pocket. He wouldn’t really refuse to let John go over but he didn’t need to know that.

Caldwell called over, “Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard, are you ready?”

John frowned at him but Rodney nodded and stepped closer to John. “Ready when you are.”

Caldwell nodded. “Alright. Major Lorne, have you cleared space for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay?”

Lorne answered via comms, “Yessir. Ready and waiting.”

“Good.” John still looked confused as Caldwell nodded to Marks. “Lock in on Major Lorne’s transmitter and beam McKay and Sheppard down.”

Marks nodded, did something at his console, and a moment later they were surrounded by a flash of light. The second after that, he and John were in the Vanir ship, Lorne reaching out to steady John on his other side. 

“Sir? You okay?”

John took a moment to get his bearings and glanced around. They were in a corridor with Lorne and his team. Nothing to indicate where on the ship they were which told Rodney they’d taken pains not to beam John directly into his former cell block. He approved. “It kinda looks like Atlantis,” John said quietly, looking around.

“Yeah, I remember thinking that, too,” Rodney replied, watching him.

“Huh.” 

“Sir,” Lorne said, looking uncomfortable. “We should get moving if—if we want to get these folks to the med bay.”

John didn’t respond, seeming lost in thought. Lorne caught Rodney’s eye, silently asking what he should do.

Rodney gently put a hand on John’s arm, trying not to startle him.

John still jerked.

“Hey hey hey,” Rodney quickly reassured. “Just me.”

John rubbed his face. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Don’t worry about it. You okay to go?”

John swallowed and nodded. Turning to Lorne, he said, “Lead the way, Major.”

Lorne hesitated a moment but nodded. Raising his voice, he ordered, “Move out. Reed, Stevens, take the rear.”

Lorne led the way with a couple of marines, John and Rodney in the middle, with the rest of Lorne’s team behind. They passed through corridors, past open doors, and, memorably, a couple of dead Vanir in an intersection. That had made John stumble to a halt, gaze locked on the suits. One of the suits was open and the Asgard’s face was visible. Rodney wondered what was going through John’s mind as he stood there, staring down at them. John’s breath came fast and he abruptly stepped backwards, into Rodney. 

Rodney reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. “They’re dead, John,” he said softly. “They can’t hurt you anymore. Come on, let’s keep going.”

After another moment, John nodded jerkily and let Rodney tug him gently away. He caught the tail end of Lorne’s concerned gaze before it was quickly rearranged into the neutral expression the major normally wore. They were all worried about John and Rodney wondered if it had been a bad idea to let him come back here. Was it helping or making things worse?

Rodney remembered the walk to the cell block that first time and wondered if Lorne was taking them on the same route. It was slow going, the escort slowing their stride to match John’s. The pills Rodney had forced John to take appeared to only be taking the edge off because John was limping and pale by the time Lorne finally stopped them, although the pallor could also be from memories and seeing the bodies.

He could hear quiet voices belonging to what must be the rest of the strike team, a cell door creaking open. Lorne conferred in a low tone with the two marines guarding the entrance. The doorway ahead was familiar but definitely showed signs of recent gunfire. The Vanir had put up a fight here. Rodney frowned. Had they realized that the Lanteans had intended to rescue the prisoners and tried to stop them? Then another thought occurred to him: had the Vanir planned to kill anyone left alive before they could be rescued?

He glanced at John. That would break John, he knew, and he was on the verge of shattering as it was. God, he prayed that someone in there was still alive.

Lorne came over to them, glanced at John then directed his words to Rodney. “I’ve worked it out with Colonel Caldwell and Hermiod that if we can get the refugees into an empty room, they can be beamed immediately to the _Daedalus_. For some reason, Hermiod says he can’t beam them directly from the cell block, says he’s being blocked somehow. It’s why we had to have you two sent down where you were. I’ve got plenty of people on that so you don’t need to—Sir?”

Lorne cut himself off because John had just walked forward, his steps slow and measured as he passed the two marines on guard. Lorne and Rodney exchanged a look then Rodney hurried after John. He knew this would be difficult and he wanted to be there if John . . . if he needed him.

The place looked almost exactly as Rodney remembered it from the last time he was here, frantically searching for a glimpse of his friend. There were even dead Vanir lying on the floor, propped up against a wall or door. Half of the doors on the left-hand side of the corridor were open and soldiers were methodically checking on the occupants. Rodney grimaced, pressed a hand to his nose as he followed John. The air stank of lingering gunfire, blood, illness . . . death. The horror of what they were witnessing was evident in the quiet voices, the carefulness shown when moving bodies. 

A marine stepped out of a cell just ahead and to their left, the body of a woman in his arms. He inclined his head briefly to them and kept going. John stopped and turned to watch the marine head down the hall. He wasn’t the only marine carrying someone and it was impossible to tell if the woman was alive. Rodney averted his gaze, feeling guilty, and stepped up to John’s side. He put a hand on John’s shoulder but he didn’t acknowledge that Rodney was even there.

After a moment, John drew in a breath, let it out, turned away and kept going. Rodney sighed and followed. When they reached the portion of the block that still had closed doors, he knew where John was going. What his goal was. 

Even so, it was hard to watch as John moved to the right, stopped in front of a closed cell. He drew in a slow breath and let it out just as slowly. It shook. Steeling himself. John slowly lifted a hand, let it hover in front of him. “This was mine,” he said, voice barely audible, nearly empty of emotion.

“I know,” was all Rodney could come up with to say. And he did know. He remembered the despair he’d felt as he and Teyla had searched the cells, wondering and hoping they’d find John, wondering what condition he’d be in. Wondering, as they encountered more and more dead, if John would even be alive when they found him. Rodney had nearly been out of hope when he’d stepped into this particular cell and finally found his best friend.

Rodney didn’t push him and John continued to stand there, his hand inches from the door that had kept him prisoner. Lorne’s team continued their work, both of them knowing that Lorne would make sure that every single one of these cells was empty before leaving.

Eventually, with a shudder that ran through his whole body, John put a hand on the bars and pulled. Apparently Lorne’s men had gone through and unlocked every door before starting to clear them of prisoners because the door opened when John pulled. It creaked noisily, swung slowly out. It took another long moment for John to muster the courage to step inside.

Should he follow? Or should he give John space? He didn’t know. He didn’t _know_ what John needed.

Rodney stood in the doorway as John slowly paced forward. The bodies of his former occupants were still there and the smell of death was stronger. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it out in the hall but maybe it was because he was focused on making sure John didn’t shatter. He’d blocked out worse things than a bad smell before.

John walked the length of the cell, across to the far wall, and placed his hand on it. He ran his fingers across the metal, his nails catching on something—scratches? Marks? Had he tried to mark the days? Rodney didn’t remember seeing anything like that, but, again, he’d been more focused on John. John slowly turned around, looked down at the bodies for a minute, then up at Rodney. 

The expression on his face was of one who was on the verge of shattering. His eyes were dark with grief and shadows, tears struggling to make their way down his face.

Rodney’s heart broke to see him like this. It propelled him across the cell where he pulled an unresisting John into his arms, crushing him to his chest. “I love you,” Rodney whispered fiercely into John’s ear.

John reached up and wrapped his arms around Rodney, hands fisting in the material of his jacket. Rodney gripped him tighter, shifting them slightly so he wasn’t pressing on the worst of John’s injuries. “I love you,” he said again. “And there is nothing in this galaxy or the next or—or anywhere that would stop me from coming for you. You know that, right?”

John gripped him tighter and buried his face in Rodney’s shoulder, a sob escaping him. Rodney held him as his shoulders shook, as John finally let it all out, the tears flowing down his face to soak Rodney’s shirt. “I’m here, John,” he said softly, rubbing John’s back gently. “I’m here; it’s all gonna be okay.”

Everything Pegasus had done to them, all the horrible things they’d seen and done, and not once had John ever let his guard down like this. Not outside his quarters, not where anyone but Rodney could see. Rodney wished one of the Vanir was still alive so he could shoot the bastard dead himself for doing this to John.

Footsteps approached, a whispered, “Sorry; don’t mind us,” and they stayed as they were as Lorne’s men retrieved the bodies.

Eventually, John stopped shaking, his tears slowed. He lifted his head, wiped his face with a sleeve. The shadows in his eyes had faded slightly and he sniffed. Rodney reached up to brush a lingering tear away, leaned in to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

John let his head fall back down onto Rodney’s shoulder, body relaxing a bit against his. Rodney spread his feet, balancing them better. “I really thought this was it, that I was going to die in this place,” John finally said. “So much time passed and—and no one came and—”

“Never,” Rodney replied instantly. “I would never let that happen.”

John pressed his mouth to Rodney’s throat in a quick kiss and said quietly, “I know. If you were here, in Atlantis, I know you’d have found me eventually.”

“Which I did, once the idiots at the SGC decided to tell me you were missing.” Rodney fully planned on sending several blistering emails on that account. He’d held off until he knew John was going to make a full recovery. “I’m only sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I could have saved you a lot of pain.”

John smiled faintly—Rodney felt it—and said, “Glad you’re here now. Don’t think I could’ve—could’ve come here without you.”

“Always.”

John fell silent again then drew in a shaky breath. “Lorne got everyone out yet?”

“Let me ask.” Rodney reached up to tap his radio. “McKay to Lorne.”

The major responded immediately. “Everything okay, doc?”

“Yeah. Just wondering how much longer you need.”

A pause as Lorne no doubt conferred with his people. “Sending the last group over in a couple minutes. How’s the colonel doing?”

Stupid question. Rodney said to John, “Yeah, they’ve got everyone. You ready to go?”

John pulled away and looked around the cell again, his gaze lingering in places. He twisted in Rodney’s hold to stare at the wall and, yes, now Rodney could see little faint marks on the surface. John _had_ tried to count the days. Why had he stopped? _When_ had he stopped? Because he’d given up, or because he’d been in too much pain to do it?

“Doctor McKay?” Lorne asked.

Rodney said, “Yeah, hold on a sec.” 

John’s shoulders seemed to set and he turned back to face Rodney. He nodded. “Let’s get off this tub.”

Okay. Rodney informed Lorne, “We’re on our way, Major.”

They made their way slowly out of the cell and back up the corridor to where Lorne and his team waited just outside the entrance. Lorne’s gaze swept over Rodney then his CO before saying, “Hermiod’s beaming the last group out. He’s been working on getting past the shields and I figured it was better to get as many out at once as we could. You and McKay can leave that way if you want—we’re using a room just up the hall—or you can hitch a ride with us on the ‘jumpers but you’d have to walk back to the hangar bay.”

_And I don’t know if Sheppard’s up to the walk,_ Lorne carefully didn’t say but Rodney heard it anyway. Rodney answered for them both, “We’ll take the shortest trip.” Getting John out of here as soon as possible was the only thing on his mind right now. He’d been walking slower and slower, leaning heavily on Rodney. He was at the edge of his endurance. 

Lorne nodded. “Sure thing. First door on the left; radio the _Daedalus_ when you’re ready to be beamed out.”

It was a short walk to the room they were using as a departure point, John’s strength fading quickly now that he’d done what he needed to. Once they were inside, Rodney contacted the ship and Hermiod beamed them back to the bridge. John sagged against him as they arrived. “Okay,” Rodney said, “you need to lie down. Come on. Let’s go find an empty room.”

John shook his head, trying to pull away and stand on his own. “No. No’ yet.”

“Not yet? What do you mean, not yet?”

“Need . . . t’ see it.” John’s words were slurring, a sure sign that he needed to get to a bed. Soon. The emotion and adrenaline had left his body, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

Biro was going to have a fit when they got back. Rodney sighed but didn’t force the issue, not yet. So he held John and waited, both of them looking out the bridge’s window until Lorne joined them. The major confirmed, first with Caldwell, then with them, that everyone—Lantean, Terran, and Pegasus—had made it off the Vanir ship. Not a body remained other than the Vanir. Then Caldwell ordered the _Daedalus_ to open fire on the ship. Missiles shot across the intervening space, connecting with previously determined vulnerable spots. No one wanted to leave the ship intact for someone else to come along and decide to use it for more horrid experimentation. Small explosions lit up the hull as the barrage continued.

The bridge was utterly silent, everyone watching. Major Marks reported calmly, “Hermiod is reporting that he has the interior shielding fully down, sir.”

Caldwell ordered, “Send it.”

There was no obvious result of Caldwell’s orders at first. Then the center of the enemy ship seemed to bow inwards, collapsing in on itself as a massive explosion went off. The Mark IV warhead that Hermiod had beamed over caused the final bit of damage.

Rodney watched John out of the corner of his eye as the ship was blown to bits. The lights from the explosions reflected faintly on his face and tears glinted in his eyes. Hopefully John would rest a bit easier now, knowing it was over and no one else would be hurt from the Vanir’s work.

John turned to Rodney when the explosions finished, leaving nothing behind of that horrible place but useless wreckage floating in space. Rodney glanced back, saw Caldwell in conversation with his XO, and reached up to cup John’s cheek. John closed his eyes at the touch, his body curving towards Rodney.

“Come on,” Rodney said softly. “It’s a long flight home; time to get some rest.”

As they left the bridge, he heard Caldwell ordering them to set a course for Atlantis. Time to go home.


	11. Chapter Eleven

John woke up cocooned in warmth to the sound of keys tapping softly in the periphery. Something bitter-smelling flitted through the air and he opened his eyes to see light gray walls, dim lighting. He was lying in a bed, warm under the blanket. Turning his head, he saw Rodney sitting at the little table in the room, brow furrowed as he focused on whatever was on his computer screen. As John watched, Rodney absently reached out to pick up a cup and drink from it. The bitter scent grew briefly stronger and John’s brain recognized it as coffee.

It all seemed surreal, somehow: waking up in a comfortable bed, feeling warm and safe and content, with Rodney working on something nearby.

John felt his stomach twist and, for a moment, he was positive that this—this whole little domestic scene—it couldn’t be real. He was back in that cell, lost in a fantasy of gaining his freedom. Then he shifted and pain ripped through him, so real it couldn’t be denied. A low moan escaped his lips and he went rigid. John shoved a hand against his abdomen, feeling the bandage under the blanket, and breathed through his nose, gritting his teeth against the pain.

It drew Rodney’s attention and he was at John’s side in a flash. “John? What is it? Where does it hurt?”

John shook his head, lips pressed flat. 

Rodney got up, walked away, then came back and said, “Open your mouth. Come on, Sheppard, this’ll help with the pain.”

Reluctantly, John opened his mouth and let Rodney slide the pills inside followed by the lip of a cup. He swallowed and waited. The flare receded to a dull ache and he looked over to see Rodney looking down at him in concern. “’m alright,” John tried to reassure him.

Rodney frowned but let it go, leaned down to kiss him lightly.

John didn’t let Rodney go far when he started to sit back up. John needed more, more than just that brief contact. John reached up, put a hand on the back of Rodney’s neck, and drew him back down into a kiss. This one was longer, slow and sweet, full of all the things John couldn’t find the words to say but most of it said thank you. For finding him, for staying with him, for coming back . . . for just being here with him.

When they finally came up for air, Rodney lingered, stealing kisses, pressing his lips to John’s cheeks, eyes, forehead, and John realized that Rodney had needed this, too. Needed the contact and the reassurance that they were both okay. Stuck on the _Daedalus_ , surrounded by military people who could make things very difficult for John if they saw anything that went beyond mere friendship, it was hard to maintain boundaries. Even if Rodney insisted DADT was going to be repealed—and John really needed to find out more about why Carter and General O’Neill were so involved with that. Later. John’s weakness had worked to their advantage, allowing more than the basic touching they’d normally have done in front of Caldwell and his eagle eyes, but it wasn’t enough. Neither had wanted to risk touching the way they wanted to.

The way John desperately needed to be touched, held . . . especially after he’d gone back into his cell. He couldn’t explain it, why he’d gone in. Just being there should have been enough to be able to shove the memories down but John had felt almost compelled to go back in. He was grateful beyond measure that Rodney had been there to catch him when he fell apart. To put him back together.

“I love you,” John said quietly when they wound up just lying together on the bed, John still half under the blanket, head pillowed on Rodney’s shoulder. “I know I don’t . . . I’m not good with—with talking about this stuff but you—you know I do. Right?”

Rodney kissed his cheek. “I know. I love you, too.”

John didn’t want to break the moment but he had to know. “The other prisoners,” he began hesitantly. “Did . . . did anyone make it? Alive, I mean.”

“Yeah. Yeah, quite a few of them, surprisingly.”

John closed his eyes in relief. Thank god.

“A lot—a lot didn’t,” Rodney continued. “The medical staff here is still working, trying to save and treat as many as they can. There were more people in that ship than I think any of us realized.”

“Are we close enough to Atlantis for our docs to help?” John inquired.

He felt Rodney’s nod. “We’re about an hour out from Atlantis. Woolsey was supposed to have the whole department on standby for when we get there.”

An hour out? John blinked. “Damn, how long was I asleep?”

Rodney chuckled. “Nearly six hours. But you needed it. And this way, hopefully, Biro won’t rip me to shreds for convincing her to let you go on the mission.”

John smiled a little, knowing she’d still yell at them but it was because she cared. Just like Rodney got really pissy when he was worried.

John let the moment lengthen for a bit then sat up. He tossed the blanket aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed, hiding a wince. 

Rodney asked pointedly, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Infirmary.” John braced himself then shoved to his feet. He swayed momentarily then took a tentative step. When his legs took his weight, he moved a bit more confidently.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call ahead?”

Right. Of course he’d go there. John shook his head. “No. No, it’s not that.” He turned back to Rodney. “I need to see them.”

Rodney sighed, rubbed his face, then sighed again and got up. “Of course you do. Can’t you wait until we get home to do this?”

It warmed John’s heart to hear Rodney call Atlantis home again and he actually gave the suggestion a moment’s thought. He swayed and Rodney slid a preventative arm around his waist. John offered him a quick smile. “Yeah, alright. I suppose I’ll be back there myself, anyway, right?”

Rodney grinned back. “Right. Now, how about something to eat?”

* * *

The infirmary staff on Atlantis was so busy with the incoming wounded, they were using the surrounding rooms for triage. The med staff from the _Daedalus_ had beamed down to help. Biro, of course, had lectured them on overextending and promptly ordered John into a bed where she had a nurse inject an IV into his arm. John, of course, then promptly tried to get out of bed and check on the rescued prisoners. Rodney wouldn’t have it, though. “When you don’t look like a vampire,” Rodney informed him firmly, a gentle hand on his chest to keep him in bed, “then I’ll _consider_ letting you go wandering around and getting in the way. Until then, you will stay here and actually take care of yourself for a few minutes.”

John scowled but considering he wasn’t altogether certain his legs would hold him, he gave in.

The next time Marie swung by, she did a quick vital signs check. “Your color is definitely better and your pulse is normal. Are you in any pain at the moment? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous at all?”

With Rodney’s gaze on him, John answered honestly, “No to the dizziness or nausea. Yes to pain, but that’s pretty much constant even with the pills McKay keeps forcing me to take.”

Marie chuckled a little as Rodney scowled. “Forcing? You’d keep going until you ripped through all of your stitches and then some!”

Marie said, “Alright, if you promise me that you’ll go back to your quarters and rest—”

Rodney interjected, “Oh, he will. I’ll make sure of it.” He gave John a pointed look.

She continued, “Then I’ll release you. Dr. McKay, I assume you’ll be keeping an eye on him?”

“Definitely.”

“Then you’re free to go.” Marie smiled as she unhooked John’s IV and slid a bandage over the spot where the port had been injected into his arm.

“Great,” John said with feeling. He was heartily sick of this place. He sat up, swung his legs over the side, and slid off the hospital bed. Rodney watched him warily, ready to catch him if he looked like he needed assistance. John took a step and stopped. He bit his lip then glanced over at Rodney. “Um, do you mind if—”

“You want to go around and see who made it off the ship,” Rodney finished.

“Yeah.”

“I figured.” Rodney held out a hand. “Come on. Sooner we get started, the sooner you get peace of mind, and the sooner I can convince you to rest.”

They set off through the infirmary, the staff flowing around them easily. All of the beds were full and nearly all of the occupants were asleep or unconscious. John recognized a couple of people he’d seen through his cell bars, either when he was being taken or when they were. They checked on everyone there then moved out into the hall where Rodney asked the security personnel where the others were.

The first room they entered had several makeshift beds filled with what appeared to be the next level of injuries, the worst having been given actual infirmary status. More of them were awake and John stopped at a woman’s side, a smile crossing his face. “Irisa,” he greeted in relief. “You made it.”

The woman smiled weakly up at him. Her hair was matted and lay limp around her face. Half of her face was covered in a bruise, sickly green and yellow, and her left eye was swollen shut. She lifted an arm and John clasped it gently. “John,” she rasped, voice just above a whisper. “I hoped . . . you would come . . . back.”

“I couldn’t leave you there.” John reached for Rodney with his free hand, gripping it tight. “Irisa, I want you to meet someone. This is Rodney.”

Her eye shifted to the side and a hint of warmth filled her voice. “So you . . . are Rodney. John spoke of you . . . often.”

“He did?” Rodney sounded surprised.

Irisa confirmed, “He did. He spoke of many . . . wondrous things . . . to give us hope. You—you would come . . . John was sure.”

Rodney glanced at him, eyes bright. “Always,” he said softly and squeezed John’s hand.

After a moment, Irisa asked, “So this . . . is your home?”

John looked around. “Yeah,” he said fondly, “yeah, this is Atlantis. Don’t worry; we’ll take care of you and then you can go home.”

Her already fragile smile shook and fell. “I do not know . . . if my home remains. I have been gone . . . so long.”

“We’ll find out. Or you can stay here, with us or we’ll find you somewhere new to call home,” John promised.

A nurse with the _Daedalus_ patch on her sleeve came over. “She needs to rest. You can visit later.”

John gently set her hand down and bent over to kiss her cheek. “You’re safe now, Irisa. Rest; I’ll come back.”

“Thank you, John.”

John managed a smile then let Rodney lead him out into the hall where he ran a hand over his face, a ragged breath escaping him. Rodney asked quietly, “She was a friend?”

Grateful he hadn’t asked if John was okay—because he wasn’t—John answered, “We bonded over our lack of interest in being locked up. She’d been there longer than I and had information. We tried escaping once. It didn’t go as well as we’d hoped.” He didn’t go into detail. The marks on his body and hers were indication enough.

John took a breath, shoved the mental doors shut, and asked, “Is that everyone? I thought there were more.”

Rodney grimaced. “There are but . . .”

“But what? Are they on the _Daedalus_?”

“Some. The ones the doctors didn’t think should be moved, mostly. The rest, um, the rest didn’t make it.”

_Oh_. John’s eyes burned and he rubbed them with the back of his hand.

“Come on,” Rodney urged. “You need to rest or Marie _and_ Biro will come after me. You can come back another time.”

John looked down the hall, wondering which room held the dead. “I should . . .”

“You should take care of yourself. John, you can only take so much on before you break. Again.”

“. . . okay. Okay, you win. Let’s go.”

“Good. Okay. Now, Sheppard, can you make it to your room under your own power or do I need to find a wheelchair?”

* * *

Rodney wheeled John into his quarters after swiping the door open and stopped just inside, the door swooshing shut behind him. Whoops. The place was a mess of scattered items of technology and clothing Rodney had left where it had fallen intermixed with the totes and boxes Rodney had brought with him through the Stargate when he first returned . . . . still full of the items he’d packed into them because unpacking hadn’t been nearly as important as locating John. Plus all of John’s belongings that had been there before.

“McKay,” John drawled, “are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“Yes. Unless you moved and didn’t tell me?”

“Then perhaps you’d like to explain why it looks like my quarters have been used as storage?”

Rodney felt his face heat and was grateful John couldn’t see. “It’s not storage.”

“There are totes stacked in my bedroom. Unless I’m mistaken—and it has been a while—they weren’t here when I left.” John tipped his head back and raised an eyebrow. It looked weird upside down.

“They weren’t.” Rodney moved around the wheelchair and started picking up the bits of tech and clothing on the floor.

“So where did they come from?” Out of the corner of his eye, Rodney saw John lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees.

Rodney made a face as he dumped an armful on top of a tote. Teyla was right: he should have cleaned up John’s room before he was released from the infirmary. He let out a breath then turned to face John and said bluntly, “They’re mine.”

John’s other eyebrow joined the first. “Yours?”

“Yes.”

“And why are your totes in my quarters? Why do you even _have_ storage totes?”

“How else did you expect me to move back? I couldn’t exactly carry all my belongings. And they’re in your quarters because of Lorne.”

John’s lips twitched. “Lorne? You’re blaming Lorne?”

“Yes.” Rodney crossed his arms. “I don’t have assigned quarters here anymore and I was a little preoccupied with finding out what had happened to you to ask for one. Lorne ordered Stackhouse to put my stuff in here and . . . I sort of—just . . . moved in?”

That was definitely a smile threatening to break free. John pursed his lips and looked around. When he turned back to Rodney, amusement danced in his eyes. “Gee, McKay, I don’t know if I’m ready to move in with you. It’s a big step in our relationship.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Would you like me to ask?”

“It’s my room, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?”

“God, you’re such an ass. Fine. You ask.”

John frowned and leaned back in the chair. “Well don’t you make it sound romantic. I don’t know if I want to now.”

Rodney dropped his arms, felt something twist inside. “Oh,” he said. “Um, okay. I’ll just—”

“Jesus, Rodney, I’m teasing!”

“That doesn’t sound like teasing! I know this is a big step. It makes this real; tangible proof that we’re together. I’d understand if you don’t want to take that step yet.”

John ran his hands over his face then braced himself on the arms of the wheelchair and stood.

Rodney started towards him, already envisioning John faceplanting on the floor of his bedroom. “Don’t do that! You’re lucky they let you out; do you want to go back to the infirmary?”

“No,” John answered, “but you’re over there and I needed you to come to me.”

Rodney frowned. “Why did you need me to come over?”

John reached up, put his hands on either side of Rodney’s face, and murmured, “So I could do this.” He leaned in and kissed Rodney. Rodney put his hands on John’s waist and closed his eyes. He would never tire of being able to kiss John.

When they broke apart, John rested his forehead against Rodney’s and said softly, “Move in with me. For real.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you sure General O’Neill and Carter can do what she told you? Will DADT be repealed?” John responded.

Rodney nodded slightly, careful not to dislodge John. “Sam seemed certain and I believe her.”

“Then, yes. I’m sure.”

Rodney kissed him. “Yes. I’ll move in with you.”

John smiled, a bit shy, and pulled away, glancing around. “You are going to have to clean, though. I can’t do it and I am not letting this turn into another version of your lab.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “I was busy!”

“You aren’t now. In fact,” John mused, “I’ll even get out of your hair while you clean and unpack.”

“Why?” Rodney frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

“What?”

“I want to take an actual bath, Rodney. Not that sponge bath the nurses have been doing.”

Rodney wavered. He understood the need to be clean but it had been a long day and John needed his rest . . .

John played his winning card. “Rodney, I have been imprisoned, experimented on, tortured, and stuck in the infirmary over the past two months. Even with the sponge baths, I feel gross and I would very much like to shave the rest of this damn hair off my face. So either help me into the bathroom and let me soak until my skin gets all wrinkly or look away while I make it there myself.”

That was no choice. Of course he’d have to help John through the maze that his quarters had become. Rodney shook his head, wrapped an arm around his waist and replied, “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

John just grinned and said cheerfully, “You know it.”

Rodney kissed him. “I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you, too, asshole.” John’s expression softened and he added, “And welcome home.”

_Finally_. As Rodney started the water and helped John undress, he thought about that. Atlantis had always been home. Even if he’d tried to make Earth feel like that again, Earth had the great disadvantage of missing the one thing that had always made Atlantis feel like home.

Home was wherever John Sheppard was.

* * *

Epilogue

_Some months later_

“Would you stop fussing with it?”

“I can’t help it! It’s stiff and I haven’t worn it in months.”

“You’re just lucky it’s not horribly wrinkled. I still can’t believe you had it shoved into the corner of your closet.”

“Where else was I supposed to put it?”

“Um, on a hanger?”

The sound of the chevrons engaging kept him from responding, effectively interrupting their conversation. The shield was switched on and John snapped to attention, gaze straight ahead. They technically knew who was dialing in but John—and Woolsey, surprisingly—were of the opinion that if you do it every time, then when it’s necessary you don’t think about it. The wormhole formed and the SGC called in. After confirming their identity, John twisted to look up at the Control Room. As John saw Woolsey head down the back stairs, he called out, “Lower the shield, Lieutenant!”

Chuck raised a hand in acknowledgement and a second later, the glowing iris vanished. Woolsey joined them on the Gate Room floor a moment later. “Good morning, Colonel, Doctor.”

“Sir,” John responded, facing forward again. He resisted the urge to tug at the collar of his dress blues again but he did allow himself one brief roll of his shoulders before the event horizon rippled, disgorging their visitors.

First through was Dr. Jackson, with Vala by his side. John felt a grin tick up the corners of his mouth because they didn’t even acknowledge the Lanteans waiting to greet them, absorbed as they were in conversation. From what he could tell, they were arguing about why Jackson wouldn’t let her in his lab anymore. It kinda reminded him of him and McKay which made his smile widen briefly.

When he’d gotten the notice that SG-1 was coming for a visit, he hadn’t really known what to expect. His experiences with SG-1 were, well, not good. He’d nearly gotten O’Neill killed—both in Antarctica and in Atlantis during the Replicator invasion. He’d let Jackson get kidnapped by the evil Asgard who then tortured him. That doesn’t even get into all the problems they encountered during Carter’s tenure as city leader. And, of course, the last time the team came it was in the hopes of finding a way to defeat the Ori once and for all.

Mitchell and Teal’c came through the Stargate next, heading right to them while Teal’c went over to possibly keep an eye on Jackson and Vala.

John nodded. “Colonel Mitchell. Welcome back to Atlantis.”

“Hey, Sheppard. Nice to be back. You got a nice gig here.” Mitchell nodded with a grin. “Dr. McKay. Mr. Woolsey. Nice to see you.”

Rodney interrupted Woolsey’s welcome to scowl and lean to the side to see around him. “What is he doing? Hey!” Rodney called out sharply. “Jackson! Hands off!”

“Keep your pants on, McKay!” Jackson called back with a roll of his eyes. “I’m just pointing something out to Vala.”

“Stunning place you’ve got here, gentlemen,” Vala said with a wave and a wink.

Rodney turned his scowl on Mitchell. “I’m checking her luggage before you leave.”

John rolled his eyes as Mitchell chuckled. “Well, McKay, you’ll be the third person to do that.”

“Then we’ll be certain she doesn’t walk off with anything vitally important to the running of the city.” Rodney sent another glare her way, muttering under his breath about thieves.

John glanced at the ‘gate, the wormhole still active, then asked Mitchell, “Carter not coming?”

Mitchell looked behind him, a frown twisting his mouth. “Huh. She was right behind us.” The event horizon rippled just then and he said, “Ah, here she comes.”

John felt himself pale slightly as not one but _two_ figures strode into Atlantis. As Mitchell headed over to greet them then join the rest of the team, John leaned over to hiss in Rodney’s ear, “What the hell is General O’Neill doing here?”

General O’Neill. Here. In Atlantis.

Fuck.

Rodney frowned and replied in a low tone, “I have no idea. When they said SG-1, I didn’t think that included him anymore. Although . . . hmm.”

“Hmm? Hmm what, Rodney?” John hissed, panic starting to make itself known. “A surprise visit from the Director of Homeworld Security, Rodney, that is not good news!” He did sort of get along with O’Neill . . . as long as they had a ‘gate between them. The only time he’d come to Atlantis was at the request of the Ancients so if he was here now . . .

“I’m not letting them take you,” Rodney said firmly, glancing at him. No surprise that he knew what John was thinking. “I don’t care what happens; neither of us are ever leaving this city for more than a brief off world mission again.”

John tried to take reassurance in that.

Then Rodney added in a thoughtful tone of voice, “Of course it might be—I mean, she _did_ say they were working on it. So maybe . . .?”

John didn’t have time to force him to explain because O’Neill and Carter were approaching. John straightened and gave them both a pristine salute. “General O’Neill, sir, Colonel Carter, welcome to Atlantis.”

“At ease, Sheppard,” O’Neill said dryly after a perfunctory return salute. “I may be in blues but I’m not here in any official capacity.”

“Actually, Jack,” Sam said, smiling at them. “We kind of are.”

John’s throat tightened. He was getting fired. Or demoted. Or court martialed.

O’Neill looked at her, blinked, then said, “Oh, yeah. Right. That.”

Sam laughed a little then reached out to draw first John then Rodney into a hug. “Good to see you, John, Rodney. I’m glad to see you looking well.”

John smiled at her. Despite the reason for the visit, he really did like Carter. She was probably the only commanding officer he’d ever truly respected and she was a good person. “Well, I do sort of have you to thank for that, since you made sure Rodney got back here, so . . . thanks.”

“My pleasure, John, believe me. I did have other reasons for sending McKay back here, though.” Sam winked then stepped aside to shake Woolsey’s hand. “Richard, how are you?”

John glanced sidelong at Rodney and murmured, “What was that about?”

Rodney shrugged. “I might have an idea but—wait, can you see Jackson? What’s he doing?”

John rolled his eyes.

“SG-1 is always welcome in Atlantis,” Woolsey greeted Carter and O’Neill graciously.

“So long as there’s no swimming involved,” O’Neill said with a pointed look Rodney’s way.

Rodney flushed at O’Neill’s clear reminder of when they had needed him to go into a submerged control room to empty the underwater ‘jumper bay for them. But John couldn’t even find amusement in Rodney’s discomfort because he was still too focused on wondering about what could be important enough to bring General O’Neill all the way out here.

When a high-ranking official came to you, something was definitely wrong.

O’Neill clapped his hands together and said brightly, “Okay, campers, let’s get this business settled so we can move on to the relaxing part of this little trip.”

There was an abrupt crash and O’Neill rolled his eyes before hollering, “Daniel, I said don’t touch!”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Mitchell, dammit, I told you to keep an eye on him!”

“Jack, I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve been here before and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Daniel retorted, snagging Vala’s arm as she reached out to touch the sconce on the wall.

O’Neill turned to face his friend and retorted, “Last time you were here, Daniel, you touched something you shouldn’t have and got yourself kidnapped by evil aliens.”

“That wasn’t my fault! McKay—”

Rodney snapped, “Oh don’t you _dare_ blame that on me, Jackson!”

John caught Sam’s eye and they both grinned. The animosity between Jackson and Rodney would never dull or fade. John interrupted, “So, about that business, sir?”

O’Neill started. “Ah. Right. Okay, so, I come bearing gifts. McKay, we’ll do yours first.”

Sam handed Rodney a box. John leaned in to see, curious.

Rodney held it cautiously. It was a small, rectangular, wooden box with a red ribbon tied around it. John couldn’t figure out what could be in it. The box itself was maybe an inch or so in height. It could fit a pen, maybe, but why would O’Neill give Rodney a pen? Rodney tugged at the ribbon, letting it drop to the floor. Then, with a glance at John, Rodney popped the lid open.

Okay, now John was even more confused. He shot a quick glance at O’Neill and Sam, both of them looking eager. John returned his attention to the contents of the box. Inside was a folded piece of paper. Rodney pulled it out and handed the box to John so he could unfold it. John took the box and closed it without comment, too used to being handed random things to hold while Rodney was working on something to notice if there was anything else in the box.

Rodney unfolded it and stared at it for a long moment. John couldn’t get a good look at what it was, not without getting too personal in front of O’Neill, Sam, and Woolsey. Rodney slowly lifted his gaze to Sam and asked, a tad faintly, “Is—is this . . . for real?”

Sam smiled gently. “I told you we were working on it.”

“What is it?” John asked.

Rodney silently handed him the paper. John tucked the box under his arm and scanned the paper. Blinked. Looked it over again. Tried to understand what he was reading and failed. He felt faint. John looked up at Rodney, whose eyes were bright. He turned to O’Neill—now grinning—and croaked, “Sir?”

O’Neill jutted his chin forward. “There’s something else in there.”

Rodney immediately yanked the box free and opened it again. He gasped and turned the box so John could see.

He was dreaming. It was the only explanation because inside, on a velvet blanket, were two gold men’s wedding bands to go along with the marriage license John currently held in his hand. What? He reached out a shaking hand to run a finger lightly over one of them. “How—?” he whispered, barely able to accept what he was seeing. It was a gift he’d never expected to ever receive, let alone from O’Neill. Sure, his relationship with Rodney was well known in Atlantis, fully accepted, but he’d never . . . even when Rodney had told him that DADT was in the process of being repealed, John had never truly believed it could or would happen in his lifetime.

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was officially repealed a month ago,” Sam informed them. “We’d have come before now but Jack insisted on bringing a little something for the occasion. Hope they fit; we weren’t too sure on the sizes.”

Rodney said softly, “John?”

He looked up from the rings to find Rodney staring at him, blue eyes shining. 

“Do you?”

John felt winded. It was all happening at once.

“I mean,” Rodney continued rapidly, “I know I’ve thought about it but we’ve never, you know, talked about it, and I don’t know if—”

“Yes,” John blurted out.

Rodney stumbled to a stop. “Y—yes?”

John nodded. “Yes. I—I’ve thought about it but it was never . . .” _It was never really an option, was it?_ He looked back down at the rings and felt a hysterical laugh get caught in his throat. He forced himself to take a breath and met Rodney’s gaze. “Yes, Rodney, I’ll marry you.”

Rodney’s smile was blinding.

“Oh just kiss already,” O’Neill said, throwing his hands in the air.

John laughed then kissed Rodney and just like that, John was engaged. It felt good.

“In case you were curious,” O’Neill said offhandedly as they separated and Rodney carefully refolded the license to return it to the box. He brushed his fingers against the rings before closing the lid. “Daniel’s ordained in about a dozen different cultures and planets.”

John felt faint again, scrubbing a hand through his hair with a weak laugh. “Thank you, sir.”

O’Neill held up a finger. “Ah ah ah, Sheppard, that’s just McKay’s gift. Although it is kind of for you both, I do have something special for you in particular.”

What could be better than the ability—and permission—to be with Rodney and not have to hide his feelings?

O’Neill dug a smaller square box out of his jacket pocket and held it out.

John took it, curious and wary. It looked like a ring box but they already had rings, in Rodney’s box. He glanced at Rodney then popped it open.

A pair of silver eagles stared up at him.

John actually swayed at that point.

Rodney grabbed his arm. “John? What is it?”

John licked his lips and looked at O’Neill. “If this is a joke, sir, it’s a cruel one.”

“What?” Rodney demanded. “What is it?”

O’Neill shook his head as Mitchell ambled over. “Not a joke, Sheppard, but it is long overdue. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, it gives me great pleasure to confer upon you the rank of Colonel in the United States Air Force. Congratulations.”

Rodney stepped aside, beaming with pride, as Sam took the box from John’s numb fingers. Mitchell grinned at him then removed the oak leaf insignias from his shoulders and stepped back. O’Neill then pinned first one eagle then the other in their places on John’s uniform then stepped back. All three saluted John, smiling.

Still reeling, John nevertheless saluted back. “Thank you, sir. I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, Sheppard, and I’ll be good.” O’Neill grinned then said, “You know what we need now? Cake. Richard, can your chef whip up a cake on short notice?”

Woolsey looked a bit stunned but said, “I’m sure he can make something for the occasion. Congratulations, Colonel Sheppard.”

John nodded in thanks and SG-1 headed for the mess with Woolsey, leaving him alone in the center of the Gate Room with Rodney. He turned to his—god, his _fiancé_ —opened his mouth and couldn’t find words. He was still in shock.

Rodney’s expression softened and he pulled John into a hug. “You deserve it, John,” he said quietly.

John hugged him tight, pressing his face against Rodney’s shoulder, for a long moment before pulling back enough to see his face. “Did all of that seriously just happen? I’m not—not hallucinating, am I? That—that happened.”

“I think it did.” Rodney laughed in disbelief and let his forehead drop forward to rest against John’s. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow. DADT repealed, engaged, and promoted all in the same day.” John’s head was spinning and it felt like the only thing keeping him sane was the touch of Rodney’s forehead against his.

“Wait until I tell Jeannie,” Rodney murmured. “She’ll be ecstatic.”

“Man am I glad you came back to Atlantis,” John murmured back.

Rodney replied, “You and me both. I love you, John.”

“I love you, too, Rodney,” John said and kissed him. Right there in the open where anyone could see. Because it didn’t matter who saw anymore.

Because he could.

Finally.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Thanks for reading and enjoying my story. I enjoyed writing it and I'm grateful for everyone who read and/or commented.

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be a little angstier than I usually write but I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it.


End file.
